


Twilight and Dusk

by MoonShadow269



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/M, French Characters, Human AU, Major Original Character(s), Mentions of Rape, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), OOC characters, Original Character Death(s), Romance, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 126,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4123270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonShadow269/pseuds/MoonShadow269
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new life foreshadows a new beginning, a new middle, and a new end. But what happens when Leafpool's life is threatened by the past? Who else will fall victim to their histories? Human&Medieval AU, OCs, and rated M for dark subjects. Warning: Main Pairings are LeafxCrow and SquirrelxBramble. Full list of pairings inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Opening Poem

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up: this is a PROSE fanfic and it is written in the typical story format. The opening/prologue is a poem, but everything after that is your usual paragraph-style writing.  
> The main pairings in fic are explored in the chapter "Guide". However, I will list them below.  
> Main pairings: LeafxCrow, SquirrelxBramble  
> Side pairings: SandxFire, CinderxOC, OCxOC  
> Mentioned pairings: FeatherxCrow, BrookxStorm, TawnyxRowan, SilverxGray, MilliexGray, FeatherxOC, SpottedxFire, BluexOak, HMxJay, HollyxFL, CinderxLion, LeafxOC, OCxOC  
> I DO NOT OWN WARRIOR CATS!

_The heart of the forest, the song of the crow_

_Where truth is hidden 'tween the friend and the foe_

_The Raven, the Lion, the Footsteps at Night_

_Will bring forth the king and his army of light_

_The Flit of a Feather, the Trickle of Stream_

_The love called Forbidden no longer a dream_

_The Leap of the Squirrel, the Bramble with Claws_

_The Call of the Star overrides every law_

_The Pillar of Fire, the Storm in the Sand_

_A series of hardships that no man could stand_

_The Eyes of the Hawk, the dance of the Piper_

_The deadliest bite from the maws of the viper_

_The Storm and the Brook approach from the sun_

_Time will pass then, 'til the battle is won_

_The Whispers of Midnight, the Rock and the Leaf_

_Will bring untold mischief, heartache, and grief_

_The Pools that surround us, the call of The One_

_Leads them from blindness, from sword and from gun_

_The Heart of Blue-Silver and Oak at its side_

_Will bring us great wisdom from Moon and her Tide_

_The Cycle complete, the world starts anew_

_The cats lose their shape and become humans too_

_And with this new change, the clans turned to one_

_The story of Empire had finally begun_

_Yet the history of darkness put in the shame_

_Sets forth destruction and victims for blame_

_When shadows will echo and love will be lost_

_The life of a loved one will be the last cost_

_The story of two retold from the past_

_Perhaps this time, their love will last_


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cue: Introduction to the Empire, major characters, and initial character interactions.  
> NOTE: If there are asterisks by a word, that means that there's an explanation at the bottom of the chapter. The entire story is told in third person limited, and the headings at the top of each section identify who's PoV the scene is from. If there is no scene heading, it is a continuation of the most recent heading.  
> NOTE: This is the only chapter where the first scene is described by the narrator.

The social and political system of the Empire was not unique by any means. They had aristocrats, three leaders, a religious foundation, and of course, the peasants and foreigners. Two leaders, the domestic and the international, were elected by their citizens. The third leader, however, was not chosen by the people or given the power at birth.

He was chosen by the earth, by the forces, and by all those who had passed. Those who had passed imprint on a total of five candidates, each being marked by a single tattoo. The forces would then choose from those five and single out two. The earth, given the last vote, would crown her new leader and summon him hours before his predecessor passed. In order to avoid corruption and fraud, the spirits marked the chosen upon their hearts, so the original tattoo itself is truly unknown. The third leader binds the country together through a series of ceremonies; blessing the earth the Empire resides on and keeping the natural disasters at bay. Upon the death of the third king, the earth mourns until her next king ascends onto the throne.

As if to assist the scholars and advisers in the country who would be looking for the next leaders, those who had potential of becoming king were tested for "heritage blood". This blood could not be passed genetically (disregarding its own name) but was also bestowed on those who were favored by the spirits. Mostly aristocratic males were tested, seeing as how the earth chose only male monarchs, (although their first wives (if they had many) were given power that matched their own) and every ten years, peasants would be tested for the "heritage blood". Those who were of high rank and were in possession of this blood experienced no social change. Those of lower rank, however, were immediately elevated to the noble rank. The families whose members ran out of this "heritage blood" lived on their wealth and were stripped of their ranking until they slowly dropping back down to be peasants. In the meantime, incoming peasants would be added to whatever house wished to continue growing.

There could be no more than twelve "heritage blood" families alive at a time, and often, ancestors saw the same blood being present in the veins of their successors. With little change in who obtained the blood, the balance between aristocrats and the peasants relatively stayed the same.

* * *

It is the reign of Larkwing the First, Rushtail the Second, and Willowpelt the Third*. Larkwing, the international leader, had begun his term two years ago and would continue it until the age of sixty-five, when he would be relieved of his duties. Rushtail, the domestic leader, was well into his twentieth year and was reaching the ripe age of forty-seven. He, like Larkwing, would continue his term until retirement. Willowpelt, the Gaian leader, was in his fifties, and was surprisingly youthful despite the strenuous duty of connecting with the earth and holding the forces together. His position was held till death.

There were twelve heritage families currently present—the house of Shadowrim, Riverside, Gustil, Herobexy, Yestermorn, Necrasung, Ebenwing, Zecrorise, Larixmin, Wilstera, Terrum, and Zephyra. The houses of Shadowrim, Herobexy, Necrasung, and Zecrorise have been heritage families since the beginnings of time. The houses of Larixmin, Wilstera, Terrum, and Gustil had been founded several generations after the first three kings. The houses of Yestermorn, Ebenwing, and Riverside were formed three generations from the current date, 3245 A.R. Twenty years ago, the Zephyra house rose from the ranks of peasantry as its current head, Firestar, was recognized for the heritage blood within his veins. He succeeded the falling house of Ripplen and forged a new house in his own name.

The houses of Herobexy, Ebenwing, and Larixmin reached out to Firestar when he began to build his estate and settle into his new position. Bluestar, Whitestorm, and Tallstar were sent to the new head of Zephyra in order to assist in his settlement process. The house of Zecrorise presented a young aristocrat, Spottedleaf, as a prospective bride for the new aristocrat. Firestar was immediately bewitched by the beauty and gentleness of this woman and fell hopelessly in love with her. They courted for a few months before he decided to propose. Several days before the actual engagement, Spottedleaf was killed when her carriage teetered too close to the side of a cliff and all those accompanying the young mistress were killed.

Firestar mourned her death for five years. Under the gentle encouragement of his closest friend, the flame-haired male opened his heart to another woman; a headstrong and moral-driven aristocrat by the name of Sandstorm. The two married after a year of courtship and gave birth to a pair of fraternal twins the year after.

This is where our story begins. Leafpool, daughter of Firestar and twin sister of the brash and strong-willed Squirrelflight, develops into a beautiful woman under the love and support of her parents. Before we learn about her future and the days to come, we must first be introduced to the owner of this story.

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

Leafpool watched the world around her as the leaves spiraled from the branches of the trees and danced their way to rest on the pillowed softness of the grass below. Squirrelflight shuffled overhead, steadily propelling herself upwards as she carefully made her way to the top of a magnificent oak tree. Behind Leafpool, Sandstorm and Firestar were curled up together contentedly, finished with the weeks' worth of complaints from the nearby peasants and answering letters from the capital. Leafpool turned her wide amber eyes to her parents, watching as her father pressed a gentle kiss to his wife's cheek while keeping an eye out for Squirrelflight.

Sandstorm blinked affectionately at Leafpool and opened her arms out to her. Quietly, the eight-year-old climbed into her mother's arms and rested her cheek against Sandstorm's chest. The woman with auburn-colored hair pressed a loving kiss against her daughter's temple and stroked her light brown hair. Leafpool watched as her father gazed at the two of them tenderly before quickly scrambling onto his feet and taking off with a startled yell.

"Squirrelflight!"

Leafpool and Sandstorm ignored the shout and basked in the warmth of the sun. They had gotten so used to Squirrelflight's antics that her knack for getting into trouble was almost routine. Since Firestar was often stuck in his office or away on duty, he was unable to witness the countless times that his daughter took a step out of the safety zone, and thus frequently fell victim to his parental instincts.

A flash of red cut through the sky as Firestar leapt into the air, delicately plucking his rambunctious daughter from the tree and landing carefully onto the grass. "I told you not to climb too high," he chastised her as he carried her back to where the others were waiting. In his arms, Squirrelflight pouted, narrowing her green eyes and puffing out her cheeks.

A small smile touched Leafpool's face as she gazed at her sister. Under the shadow of her smile, however, Leafpool subconsciously noted the startling number of differences between her and her twin. As much as she despised being compared to Squirrelflight, she couldn't ignore the thoughts that filled her mind. Squirrelflight was lively, charismatic, and lovable. Although she was talented in ruining all of her clothes on her constant "adventures", skipped the lessons that tutors painstakingly altered for her, acted loud and was often outspoken, she was loved by almost everyone who knew her. Leafpool, on the other hand, was deemed as the "good girl" and was so obedient that often times, she merely faded out of people's interests. She pursued intellect and knowledge with a ravenous hunger that startled all of her tutors and pleased both her parents. She was talented at the arts and worked exceptionally with her hands. However, being the less charismatic of the two, she was often forgotten in the shadow of her sister.

It wasn't just their personalities that clashed horribly. Their appearances were drastically different too. Leafpool had slightly wavy hair that looked like it was mixed between the colors of blond and brown. She considered herself to be mildly pretty with her large amber eyes and her long, curled eyelashes, but her features were exactly what made her feel as if she was the odd one out. All three members of her family had red hair. Her father had flaming red hair with emerald green eyes while her mother had a much more reserved auburn hair color and pale green eyes. Her sister had dark red curls and green eyes that seemed to be a shade between their parents. Squirrelflight looked like Firestar and Sandstorm's daughter. Leafpool didn't.

As any mother would, Sandstorm had tried to convince Leafpool early on that her brown hair came from her ancestors and frequently referenced living relatives that once had brown hair. Leafpool accepted that excuse begrudgingly, but when her mother failed to come up with a good explanation for her eye color after noting that all her relatives had green eyes, Leafpool decided to drop the matter after realizing it would only make her much more frustrated.

Although her father seemed to be just a little more taken up with Squirrelflight, Leafpool was thankful that her mother kept a very watchful and loving eye on her. So loving, it seemed, that even oblivious Squirrelflight would notice the extra care that their mother bestowed onto Leafpool and would complain about not getting her fair share of attention.

Leafpool snapped out of her reverie as her sister tugged insistently on her arm. "Come on, Leafa," Squirrelflight urged. "Let's explore! You're going to get fat and lazy if all you do is sit around."

"Squirrelflight!" Sandstorm scolded. Firestar deflated slightly as his wife took to scolding the children. With the small amount of time he was actually able to spend with his family, he wasn't given much leeway over family matters. "Don't talk to your sister that way. Remember what I've told you before. Think before you speak."

"Yes mother," Squirrelflight replied monotonously as she continued to tug on Leafpool's arm. Giving in, the brunette allowed her red-headed sister to pull her to her feet and drag her off.

"Don't go too far!" Firestar called.

"Yes, father," Leafpool said just as Squirrelflight shouted, "yes, papa!" When their parents were safely out of earshot, Squirrelflight leaned in.

"Sorry I said that, Leafa. I really didn't mean it."

"It's alright," Leafpool reassured her. "I know you didn't." From birth, Squirrelflight had a difficult time keeping her thoughts to herself and encouraging other people to follow her without being too bossy. Leafpool knew that her sister didn't mean her any harm and would be the first to defend her in any situation. Although there were many things that she envied of her sister, Leafpool was thankful for having Squirrelflight as her closest friend. "So where are we going to do this time?"

"Well, mama said that we're going to have some friends over for a week, so we won't be too bored with all our tutors and lessons and whatnot." Squirrelflight wrinkled her nose distastefully. The corner of Leafpool's lips twitched upward when she saw Squirrelflight run a hand through her hair. _She's going to go off on a tangent again_ , the brunette thought affectionately. "I don't understand why papa even sends them over for me. I think I'm made to fight in the military." As if to prove her point, the redhead brought both hands together and pretended to fire a gun.

"I think it's too early to say," Leafpool said uneasily. It broke her heart whenever her sister mentioned going away and joining the military. According to the books that she studied, wars were far from peaceful and many families paid a heavy cost for their involvement. If anything, she couldn't imagine a life without her sister.

"Well, of course." Squirrelflight rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly at Leafpool. "I need to train a lot more before I can join!" Her eyes gleamed with excitement. "I managed to convince Gray stripe and papa to take me hunting with them later on," she boasted, puffing out her chest proudly. "Papa said that if I behave properly, I'll get to try hunting too!" At the uncomfortable look on her sister's face, Squirrelflight sighed and gave her a small smile. "Leafa, both of us know that you're the smart one. I like to think that I can be your shield—you know? The knight guarding the king..." Her green eyes sparkled. "Wouldn't that be amazing? We can be outstanding in the different things!"

"Of course," Leafpool agreed softly. _But it would make me feel better if you weren't running off getting in trouble all the time_ , she sighed inwardly. "Do you know who's coming over tonight?" She asked, quickly changing the topic.

A quizzical expression covered her sister's face and she tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I don't know how many people are coming," she admitted. "But I know that Graystripe, Stormfur, and Feathertail will be coming. With luck, we'll see Tawnypelt, Brambleclaw, and Crowfeather too!" Leafpool stiffened slightly at the last name her sister mentioned and Squirrelflight frowned. "What's wrong? Did Crowfeather do something to you?" When Leafpool failed to respond, Squirrelflight's eyes narrowed. "Why, I oughta…" She grumbled under her breath.

"No, it's not that," Leafpool reassured her. "How do I say this…we're on the on the best terms." Quickly noticing the unconvinced expression on her sister's face, she quickly added, "I guess I'm a bit too shy and quiet for his liking."

"A bit too shy and quiet?" Squirrelflight repeated scathingly. "I'll show him shy and quiet!" She turned on her heel and took a step in the direction of their parents before Leafpool grabbed her arm and dragged her back.

"No, you'll show him headstrong and explosive," she corrected her sister. "It's alright, Squirrelflight. Besides, it's not really a big deal." There were multiple reasons why Leafpool was reluctant to let her sister pick a fight with Crowfeather. First, Leafpool knew she had to learn how to fight her own battles. Second, as much as she felt unappreciated by him, she wanted to make sure that they could at least get along to a minimum. Third, the look on Squirrelflight's face would give everything away, raise their parents' suspicions, and then Firestar would get overprotective and send all her friends away. Fourth…as much as Leafpool hated keeping secrets from her sister, she couldn't help but keep one hidden away. She always felt uncomfortable around him; when he was too close to her, she'd feel her heart start to accelerate or when their hands brushed, jolts of electricity prickled her skin. It was a difficult feeling to understand as an eight-year-old, and Leafpool was convinced that it would die away soon enough. Well, if it didn't, at least she'd be old enough to finally understand what it was until then.

"If you say so…" As expected, Squirrelflight looked unconvinced. However, the begrudging look on her sister's face reassured Leafpool that she wouldn't press the matter.

"So what game are we going to play right now?" Leafpool asked, changing the topic once again.

"Well, why don't we play the knight game again? I could be a knight and you can be my queen and we can go out and defeat monsters!" When Leafpool nodded her consent, the two of them quickly slipped into their roles and began weaving an intricate plotline filled with daring adventures, dire circumstances, and of course, dragons.

"Graystripe!" Squirrelflight squealed, launching herself into the gray-haired man's arms. His amber eyes glowed with laughter and amusement as he squeezed her once and held his arms open to Leafpool. Shyly, the brunette slipped into his arms and relished the warmth of his embrace. Graystripe was so close to their family that he was almost considered part of it. He wasn't an owner of heritage blood, but he was born in the house of Herobexy and therefore was considered an "inherited" aristocrat. He didn't qualify for kingdom, but he was still elevated by his wealth.

Pulling away from Graystripe, Leafpool allowed him to ruffle her hair affectionately before she turned around to watch her sister greet Graystripe's children. Stormfur watched calmly as his sister and Squirrelflight embraced one another and nodded to Leafpool in greeting. Like his father, the gray-haired boy was an "inherited" aristocrat.

Feathertail and Squirrelflight pulled away from one another and the silver-haired girl blinked kindly at Leafpool. According to Graystripe, she looked exactly like her late mother Silverstream, but it seemed that the thickness of her hair was passed onto her by her father. Both of them, much to Herobexy's shock, chose to join their late mother's house, the house of Riverside, in place of following their father. The two of them were at least three years older than Leafpool and her sister. Leafpool smiled shyly at the blue-eyed girl and kept her distance as more people entered the estate. Immediately, Squirrelflight was surrounded by friends and Leafpool was greeted briefly before being left in the shade of the nearby rowan tree.

"Leafpool." The brunette jumped at the gentle touch on her shoulder and whirled around to see her favorite tutor standing close behind her with an amused twinkle in her blue eyes.

"Cinderpelt! Are you staying over too?" When the gray-haired woman shook her head no, Leafpool deflated slightly.

"But I will drop by from time to time," Cinderpelt told her quickly. "Your father took the liberty of giving all of the tutors a week off when he decided that you and your sister would have the entire week to relax with friends! Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Yes," Leafpool agreed, trying to keep her voice cheery. "It definitely will be." She felt a pang at the carelessness of her mentor's words. Squirrelflight often rejoiced in these rare occasions where their father would allow them to rest from their studies, but Leafpool felt completely alone in those moments. Her mother would be busy being a good host and her father's attention would be nearly impossible to catch. The tutors, who were usually the only ones who paid close attention to Leafpool, would be absent, leaving her without a friendly face to talk to. _I'll make up something about how I'm not feeling well_ , Leafpool thought to herself as Cinderpelt patted her one last time on the shoulders and left on a carriage. _Otherwise Squirrelpelt'll try to get me to play with her friends._

Slipping away from the crowd, Leafpool disappeared through the front door and into the manor house, unaware of a pair of icy blue eyes that were burning a hole into the back of her head.

* * *

As expected, the next few days were uneventful and awkward on Leafpool's half. She dined twice a day with everyone at breakfast and at dinner. During lunch, her mother would go and chat with the other mothers while the men went out to hunt or reminisce about the old days. Squirrelflight and her friends played in the river that crossed the estate or rode horses through the forested acres around the manor house. Meanwhile, Leafpool secluded herself in the enormous manor library and reading underneath the shade of her favorite redwood. Occasionally, Brambleclaw or his sister Tawnypelt would seek her out and ask her to join them, but she continued to decline their requests.

As usual, the two dark-haired siblings were being courteous and kind. Every time they came over, they would ask her to join them despite her protests. From time to time, they would persuade her to at least be present during their activities and in those times, Leafpool abandoned her books and brought out her sketchbook. There, she would draw pictures of her sister and her sister's friends as they played together.

She marked the names of every person under their picture. If anything, she had memorized their appearances after sketching them for so long. Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt were alike in physical stature but their personalities were very different. Brambleclaw was stoic and made his choices based on ethical reasoning. Tawnypelt was more of a "people's person" and made decisions based on her morals and her beliefs. Both of them had dark hair although Tawnypelt had golden highlights to hers. They shared the same shade of amber eyes and a broad-shouldered, well-muscled form.

Feathertail had a delicate frame with long, flowing hair. Her blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight and her gentle smile seemed to mirror the warmth of the hearth. Stormfur had a handsome, square jaw and cool blue eyes. His dark gray hair reminded Leafpool of Graystripe and she frequently wondered if the boy's hair was just as soft as his father's. When she was younger, Graystripe often put her on his shoulders and she would weave her fingers with his hair in order to stay upright. Leafpool smiled faintly at the memory of his feather-soft hair caressing her fingertips.

If there was any person who puzzled her the most out of all of Squirrelflight's friends, it was definitely Crowfeather. He was at least a couple of months older than Leafpool, but he treated her as if she were years younger. He was rude, proud, and cold, but showed a much softer side to the Squirrelflight and his friends. Not to mention that, but the look in his eyes when he gazed at Feathertail bothered Leafpool. It was an unrecognizable emotion that Leafpool was convinced would reduce her to a trembling mess if it were to turn on her. The intensity of his gaze often unnerved her and she would feel frustration gnawing at her mind whenever she was unable to understand him.

Out of all the sketches in her sketchbook, the number of drawings she had of Crowfeather almost rivaled those of Squirrelflight's. Almost every expression she saw of his was recorded and documented in her book. It was embarrassing how many times his face would appear whenever she flipped through her sketches and she often shied away from showing her sister. After counting the number of sketches she had of him, she decided to avoid Squirrelflight and her friends as best as possible in order to resist the temptation of drawing him again.

Today, however, was not one of Leafpool's lucky days. Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt convinced her to join them by the river and Leafpool had only relented out of the amount of respect she held for them. It was a hot summer day and Leafpool sweated uncomfortably under the shade. She shifted the sketchbook in her hands, almost guiltily stroking the last few blank pages. She would definitely have to ask her father for another book—her third book of the month.

A shout caught her attention and she lifted her head, flinching when sparkling droplets of water splashed onto the grass a few feet in front of her. She wrapped her arms protectively around her sketchbook as a drenched figure stumbled toward her. It was Tawnypelt, dressed in swimwear**. "Why don't you join us?" The dark haired girl suggested, eyeing the glass of lemonade that Leafpool had brought with her. The ice had melted away at least half an hour ago. "It's really hot right now."

Leafpool glanced uncomfortably toward the river where the others were playing and down at her white dress. "I don't have swimwear on," she whispered quietly.

"Then why don't we go back to the manor and get you dressed then?" Tawnypelt's amber eyes glowed encouragingly at her. Leafpool felt the skin on her arms prickle uneasily at the dark haired girl's suggestion. It was almost as if she was determined to get Leafpool into the water with the others. "Come on." Leafpool looked hesitantly at Tawnypelt's offered hand and chewed on her lip nervously. It wasn't that she couldn't stand Squirrelflight's friends-it was just that she didn't feel like she fit in. Not only that, but she didn't want to feel as if she was taking her sister's friends away.

Leafpool glanced up at Tawnypelt's eyes one last time, as if giving her one last chance to change her mind, before gathering up her things and taking the offered hand. "Hey, I'm going to head off to the manor with Leafpool for a second," Tawnypelt called to her friends. When Leafpool felt their eyes turn onto her, she flushed immediately, feeling uncomfortable under their gazes. The dark-haired girl immediately shifted, partially blocking the timid artist from curious eyes. A wave of shock and gratitude washed over Leafpool and she felt a smile touch her lips as she stared at the broad back before her.

"Got it!" Squirrelflight called back, waving excitedly. Leafpool glanced uneasily at her sister and felt a stab of guilt at the delight in Squirrelflight's green eyes. It was obvious that the redhead wanted her sister to join her in the water, but she probably respected Leafpool enough to leave her alone. "We'll expect you guys to be back soon!" Tawnypelt squeezed Leafpool's hand to get her attention and smiled reassuringly when Leafpool turned her started eyes to the dark-haired girl.

"Come on," she said, tugging gently. "We don't bite." Letting out an awkward laugh, Leafpool nodded reluctantly and pressed herself into Tawnypelt's damp side. The broad-shouldered girl's eyes widened slightly, but her grin grew at the shy smile on the brunette's face.

"I-if you say so."

* * *

Leafpool shifted from side to side, relishing the coolness of the water as it swirled around her shorts and soaked the cotton fabric. Just a few feet away, Squirrelflight was engaged in a splash fight with Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, who both looked more than determined to drench the redhead. Stormfur watched lazily from the riverbank and Feathertail carefully soaked herself in the cold river water. A splash caught Leafpool's attention and she saw Crowfeather's dark head surface before he disappeared under the water again. She watched him uneasily—she knew of the Ebenwing's reluctance to swim and it was obvious that he was forcing himself to swim.

Five minutes later, Crowfeather was kicking away from the center of the riverbed. Leafpool watched him, expecting him to reach for a towel and dry himself off in the shade. However, he waded through the shallows until he was standing by Feathertail. She watched as the dark-haired boy lifted his head to talk to the silver-haired female and how his cheeks seemed to redden as she praised him.

Leafpool's heart clenched for a second and before she could recognize what had just happened, a cold splash of water drew a startled squawk from her throat. She whirled around, blinking wildly as her drenched hair whipped around and rested uncomfortably on her shoulders. "Look out!" She heard Tawnypelt yell just in time for her to squeeze her eyes closed at another well-aimed splash.

"Squirrelflight! The first one was on accident," Brambleclaw told Leafpool apologetically when she brushed the water away from her eyes. He turned and gave a particularly stern look to the mischievous redhead beside him. "Squirrelflight, however, thought it would be hilarious to splash you… _again_." Leafpool spluttered at her sister and let out a fond huff. Shaking her head slightly, she turned away as if to climb out before quickly whipping around and splashing Squirrelflight hard.

"Hey!" She couldn't help but giggle when she heard her sister sputter indignantly. "Leafa!" She aimed another splash at Squirrelflight and squealed when her sister splashed her back indignantly.

"Be careful!" Brambleclaw scolded as he slapped his hand against the surface of the water, unintentionally splattering himself and Squirrelflight in water.

"I could say the same to you!" She shouted, shifting her attention from Leafpool to Brambleclaw. Tawnypelt rolled her eyes at them and motioned nodded toward them. Leafpool nodded, understanding the underlying message immediately. She trembled with excitement as the two of them crept toward their unsuspecting siblings and began to flail wildly, drenching Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight under waves of river water.

"Mercy!" Leafpool heard Squirrelflight wail after a couple seconds. She stopped immediately, and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion when Tawnypelt's amber eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and fear.

"Look o—" Leafpool didn't hear the end of the dark haired girl's warning before she was dunked roughly underwater. Startled, she spluttered, unconsciously letting go of her breath and losing her air. She struggled at first and her blood grew cold when the hands pushing her head down didn't let go. _Squirrelflight?_ She thought desperately, trying to push away. Her eyes stung wildly as she accidentally opened them underwater and she gasped at the pain, unintentionally inhaling a lungful of river water.

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

He watched Leafpool linger by the bank as her sister splashed the Herobexy siblings under the water droplets that hung to the ends of his long eyelashes. The brunette seemed lost as she twisted from side to side nervously, wringing her hands as she glanced back and forth from the water to the others in the river. He snorted and turned his head back toward Feathertail, deciding that her attention would be much more preferable to watching people splash one another.

She gave him a tender smile before turning her attention to where the others were. A few feet away, Stormfur dozed, cracking open a lazy eye to gaze out at the loud, squealing group in the river. Crowfeather watched the silver-haired girl, staring hard at her before following her amused blue gaze back to the four who were splashing in the river.

Crowfeather watched as Squirrelflight turned on Brambleclaw and began to slap water in his direction. His eye twitched slightly as the two of them began to engage in a rather intense water-fight. The two of them were famous for their spats and their fights. Often times, the reason was so trivial that Crowfeather was almost convinced that the two of them fought merely to amuse themselves. The dark-haired male blinked in surprise when Leafpool and Tawnypelt ambushed their siblings and initiated a splash-war.

Although he had suspected that the brunette twin had a wild side to herself, he had never expected for her to be so energetic and carefree. Her drenched hair spun around her as she laughed, squeezing her eyes shut as she raised her hands to block a splash. She always looked like she had a problem to solve or a book to read. Here, she seemed as carefree as her sister, giggling and splashing water like a madman. Crowfeather pursed his lips as he continued to watch her. She was the only one out of all of Squirrelflight's friends that he found difficult to understand.

He snapped out of his reverie just in time to see Squirrelflight leap at her sister and push her underwater. Shaking his head in exasperation, he crossed his arms and glanced Feathertail. The amusement in her eyes died out after a few seconds and she let out a warning cry, cutting through the water like a knife as she dove back into the river. Squirrelflight, who was crowing her victory, had flinched at the silver girl's shout and pulled away from her sister, whose head was still submerged. Crowfeather felt something brush up against him and he looked up just in time to see Stormfur race forward, his eyes hard as he skidded to a stop by the bank.

Feathertail hefted Leafpool out of the water; the brunette spluttered and coughed upon impact with the riverbank. She rolled onto her elbows, shaking as she emptied the water from her stomach and lungs. Crowfeather pulled himself from the river and picked his way over to where Feathertail and Stormfur were trying to sooth Leafpool. Stormfur rubbed Leafpool's back encouragingly as his sister cooed to the waterlogged brunette. Feeling a sudden stab of rage at the sight of the brunette twin heaving and crying, Crowfeather whirled around, ready to give Squirrelflight a piece of his mind. However, he froze in his tracks when she pushed past him and fell to her knees beside her sister.

"Oh Starreign, Leafpool! I didn't know—I didn't mean it—I—oh Starreign," she wailed. Brambleclaw was behind her in a second, pulling her away from Leafpool.

"She's going to be okay now," Crowfeather heard Brambleclaw tell her. "Feathertail and Stormfur have a lot of experience with swimming." _Meaning they probably know what to do with a half-drowned person_ , Crowfeather added, immediately understanding the implied message of the boy's words. The two of them were raised by the house of Riverside and were probably taught out to swim ever since they were toddlers. Undoubtedly, they would've experienced a few accidents here and there.

The dark-haired boy listened as Leafpool's painful heaving faded into quiet sobs. He watched as Feathertail brushed the hair away from the brunette's face and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Shh, it's okay," she cooed, smiling gently, "Stormfur and I are going to take you back to the manor, okay? We'll get you some tea with honey and some nice pillows." She glanced at her brother and he nodded before gathering up the shaking girl in his arms. "Gently, now," she whispered to him as he rose to his feet. Glancing back at the others, she smiled apologetically. "I'll send Stormfur back in a bit. I'll stay with Leafpool for the rest of the day."

"I should—" Squirrelflight started, but Feathertail cut her off with a stern look.

"No, you should let your sister rest and recover. You should also tell Firestar and Sandstorm what happened. It's the least you could do," Feathertail told her gently. "Come on, Stormfur." Crowfeather watched the silver-haired girl with a mixture of admiration and pride as she walked away. This was why he was so drawn to her. She was caring and had a way with people. She knew exactly what to say and how to say it.

He glanced back at Squirrelflight, who looked absolutely devastated as she stared after her sister. Brambleclaw was stroking her shoulder softly, but the glances he threw his sister revealed that he was unsure of what he should do.

"I'm heading back too," Crowfeather informed them suddenly. "I'll watch over Leafpool with Feathertail." Turning on his heel, he walked away before the three of them could respond.

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

As expected, her parents had been outraged when they heard of what happened. Squirrelflight was summoned before dinner and didn't return to eat with everyone else. Ashfoot scolded Crowfeather and the others for not realizing it soon enough, but Graystripe quickly rose to defend them from her harsh words.

Leafpool picked at her food uncertainly before setting her utensils down and walking over to her father's chair. The red-haired male paused in mid-chew and raised an eyebrow at her. "Father, may I bring my food upstairs to eat with Squirrelflight?" Firestar blinked at his daughter before swallowing his mouthful and setting down his fork.

"You are aware that she's being punished right now." Leafpool's cheeks blazed as she felt everyone's eyes turn onto hers. Steeling herself, she focused on his face and stood a little straighter.

"I know," she replied stubbornly. "But I know she didn't mean to do it. May I please bring my food upstairs?" She repeated herself.

Firestar's eyes softened and he touched her arm reassuringly. Leafpool quickly relaxed under his gentle touch. "Go and fill your plate," he whispered. "Squirrelflight's isn't allowed to have food tonight, but she's lucky that she has a sister like you." He squeezed her shoulder and gave her a stern look before speaking up slightly. "Please remind her that this is the last time that I will let her off so lightly. I'll tell the chef to send up some dessert for the two of you later." Leafpool's eyes glowed and she wrapped her arms around her father's neck, overjoyed. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek, a tender look in his eyes as she pulled away and tried not to run to her seat.

Leafpool could still feel the eyes of everyone at the table burning holes into her skin, but she did her best to pile her plate full of tasty tidbits and run off without spilling anything. She groped for the extra fork by her napkin and smiled gratefully at Tawnypelt when the dark haired girl placed the utensil onto the plate and tucked two napkins into her collar. Bowing to her father in gratitude, she headed upstairs with her platter of food and turned the corner.

Although the manor was large, Leafpool found it very difficult to get lost. It seemed as if every room was bustling with some activity or had some use to it. Leafpool and Squirrelflight's bedrooms were located on the second floor with the guest bedrooms and the library. Firestar and Sandstorm's master bedroom was located on the opposite end of the second floor, nicely distanced from the other rooms. The third floor contained storage areas and servants' quarters. The kitchen, the den, the dining room, the laundry room, and sitting area were located downstairs. There were gardens in both the front yard and the back—the flowers in the front were arranged in a semi-circle around a large and wonderfully crafted fountain. The backyard had a "labyrinth" of flowers, open space, patio deck, a river, and a forest of various densities all around.

Leafpool knocked gently on the door and smiled when Squirrelflight gave the okay. The redhead stared at her as she headed in with her plate of food and set it by the bed. "Leafpool? What are you doing up here?" Leafpool saw wariness and remorse shining in Squirrelflight's green eyes, but she said nothing as she situated herself on her sister's bed.

"I convince Father to let me come and bring you food," Leafpool replied, as Squirrelflight gently closed the door. "I thought you wanted to see me."

"If this is pity…" Squirrelflight tugged on the ends her hair with a frown. "I don't need it. I'm sorry, it sounds rude but…"

"It's not pity." Leafpool patted the seat beside her and lifted a forkful of food. "Mouth. Open. Now." Squirrelflight sat down beside Leafpool and opened her mouth in protest, but the brunette ignored her and began shoveling food into her sister's mouth. "If you think this is pity," she grumbled as she fed Squirrelflight another bite of meat, "then you aren't my sister." Satisfied that her sister's mouth was completely full, Leafpool dipped her head and took a bite of green beans.

"Ife buff—" Squirrelflight hurriedly swallowed her mouthful of food, "I mean, I just assumed…I'm sorry. I didn't mean…no, I didn't…"

"You didn't do it on purpose and even if you doubt yourself, I'll prove you wrong," Leafpool retorted, taking another bite of food. She gave her sister a scathing look when the redhead continued to stare. "Are you going to eat or not? Mind you, the food on this plate wasn't meant for only you." As if to prove a point, she stabbed a piece of meat and popped it in her mouth, chewing enthusiastically. "Persuading father takes a lot of energy, you know."

"Hey! Don't eat it all!" Squirrelflight sprung onto the food immediately, nearly snatching the plate away from Leafpool as she filled her mouth. The brunette laughed and speared a chunk of meat before relinquishing the plate to her sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the topic of names, I decided to call Bramblestar by his original name because he still feels like a "Brambleclaw" to me. I'm sorry if you guys want to have him recognized for his new role as a leader, but I think his original name fits him a little better in the context of this story.
> 
> ...reign of...and Willowpelt the Third* - What this is referring to is the different roles they have as leaders. The First means that you are the domestic leader, the Second means that you're the international one, and the Third means that you're the Gaian "king". The numbers mean nothing in terms of succession.
> 
> ...dressed in swimwear** - Upon rewriting this story, I realized that these people don't live in a time with synthetic rubber or swimsuits. I decided to replace the swimsuits with "swimwear", which pretty much is not waterproof and is just...a wool tank-top of sorts and mid-length shorts. Both are wool, don't function as swimsuits or legitimate swimwear, but it's the best I can do for their time period. They're sorta in the early/pre-Industrial Revolution time period, where cars weren't exactly made yet, but guns were available. However, what is important to note is that these people live in an alternate universe that also focuses heavily on trade jobs and using herbs as medication.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cue: Tension between Leafpool and Crowfeather and a haunting prophecy...  
> NOTE: If there are asterisks by a word, that means that there's an explanation at the bottom of the chapter. The entire story is told in third person limited, and the headings at the top of each section identify who's PoV the scene is from. If there is no scene heading, it is a continuation of the most recent heading.

 

Third Person – Leafpool

A drop of sweat trickled down Leafpool's forehead and she shook her head irritably to get rid of it. Sensing that the droplet was still there, she let out a long sigh and mopped her brow with the already-damp rag beside her. Picking up her knife again, she pressed the point into the wood and began to carve the pattern of feathers onto her masterpiece.

After the near-drowning experience, Leafpool decided that she had to avoid Squirrelflight and her friends at all costs—despite how rude and devastating it would be on her sister's side. Although it broke her heart to see the deflated expression on the redhead's face, Leafpool convinced herself that she was doing what was best for everyone—even if it meant her bond with her sister would be weakened. Their father had made it very clear—that time was the last time that Squirrelflight would be punished lightly for her mistakes.

With a sudden opening in her schedule created by her avoidance strategy, Leafpool turned to her art as a way to escape boredom. A few days ago, she asked her father for a large, fourteen by twelve-inch chestnut board. In the summer heat, she set to carving the image of a crow and a cat sitting side by side.

She had spent at least twenty hours on this project so far, painstakingly making sure that each detail was precise and placed perfectly. She worked on it as soon as she woke up, after breakfast, before lunch, until dinner, and even after dessert. She would go to bed, however, when one of the maids knocked on her door to give her the five minute warning when either Firestar or Sandstorm made their nightly rounds.

The hours of work made her hands cramp uncomfortably and whatever ice she brought with her to ease the pain melted quickly in the summer heat. She had to wipe her hands every few minutes in order to make sure that the knife wouldn't slip out of her hand. The fruit of her labor made the grueling process seem insignificant. With a nearly finished crow and the outline of the other figures carved out, Leafpool knew it wouldn't be long before the piece would be finished.

Shifting slightly so that she could work on the space between cat and crow, she dug her carving knife into the firm surface. "What are you doing?" A voice asked suddenly. Startled, Leafpool's hand slipped and she let out a cry of anguish when her knife gouged a jagged line into her wood piece.

"Oh, no no no no no no…" She whimpered, smoothing her hands over the new cut in the wood. It was ruined—the cut was too deep to cover with other marks. The balance of the piece was upset. Staring at her half-finished masterpiece, Leafpool felt a wave of anger crash onto her.  _So many hours_ , she thought bitterly as she traced her finger over the jagged line again.  _So much hard work_.  _Wasted._ Whoever caused this would most definitely be given a piece of mind.

"Why did you have to—" She broke off when she saw who was standing behind her. Immediately, the words died in her throat. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, feeling the blood rush to her face with embarrassment and fury. Instead, she ground her teeth down, catching the inside of her lip as she clamped her mouth shut. She always found it hard to talk around Crowfeather.

His icy eyes looked over her frustrated expression before traveling over to her piece. They widened slightly when he saw the mistake his words had caused. "I-I…" He started, a guilty expression crossing his face.

"I-i-it's nothing," Leafpool quickly stammered, lifting her hands and blocking Crowfeather's view of her carving. Inwardly, she cursed herself. Why did she always have to shy away from him?  _Speak your mind!_  "A s-small mistake. I can fi-fix it easily…" She groaned inwardly at her words.  _Well, so much for that._  Her timid nature never helped her with coming out with her true feelings. Her hand trembled violently and the knife slipped from her fingers. She yelped and quickly bent over to pick it up again, inwardly cursing herself for saying that she could fix it. Who was she kidding? The piece was ruined.

Just as she raised the knife to her piece again, a cool hand tugged the knife out of her hand while another gently nudged her to the side. She watched dazedly as Crowfeather knelt down beside her and dug the knifepoint into the hard surface. Immediately, it felt as if the air around her had been sucked out by some mysterious force. She was almost overwhelmed by the sudden closeness and the sudden lack of personal space. When she felt herself gravitating toward him, she pulled back with a blush. He seemed not to notice as he carved into the wood, his hand unsteady and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Alarms were going off at the back of Leafpool's head when she realized his carving hand was blocking whatever he was working on. A part of her wanted to rip the piece of out of his hands to keep the damages to a minimum, but the sincere diligence in his movements quickly reassured her fretful side. She felt herself relaxing as she submerged herself in the sounds of the forest and the rasp of metal against wood. Whatever Crowfeather made of her piece would be acceptable, she decided.  _I can't deny anyone when they're that sincere_ , she thought with a sigh.

"I don't know if this makes it alright but…" Crowfeather leaned back and Leafpool snapped out of her thoughts to peer at her altered piece. In the place of the jagged line was a roughly carved leaf. As she studied the newest score into the wood, warmth spread through her body.

It was almost as if the black-haired boy had touched her heart with this carving. She stroked the surface of it gently, feeling the awkward catches in the blade. It was perfect. Although the carving screamed amateur, the leaf fit Crowfeather perfectly. This was the side that Squirrelflight frequently told her about—and for once—she was seeing it for herself. She turned and smiled at him. "Thank you," she whispered. "It's wonderful."

"It's not the best craftsmanship…" Crowfeather mumbled begrudgingly, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I'll work on it." He paused and studied the wood again. "Why are you making this again?" At his words, Leafpool furrowed her eyebrows together.  _Do I need to have a reason to make art?_  Once again, her thoughts didn't resonate in the answer she gave him.

"My bedroom is…simple," she said slowly, tracing over the leaf again. "Squirrelflight always complains about how boring it is and she told me that I should hang up my art." She chuckled softly, stroking the surface of her crow and marveling at the difference in texture between her carving and Crowfeather's. The levels of experience between the two of them were drastically different, but amazingly, they seemed to fit well together. She felt an unexpected wave of fondness and tenderness wash over her as the two of them stared at her wood carving. For some reason, at that moment, it felt as if she had known him for all of her life.

"A crow and a cat," he commented, breaking their few moments of silence. Inwardly, Leafpool mourned the loss of the connection she felt with him. "Where did you get that idea?"

"…It's from a dream that I keep having," she admitted. "But the leaf wasn't there before—at least I don't remember anything about a leaf." Leafpool nearly slapped herself for the awkward silence that followed. "Well then again, it's your leaf. I mean—uh…" She swallowed the lump in throat. "…Have you seen Squirrelflight?" She asked, quickly changing the topic.

"She's with the others by the river. Why?"

"I-I-I just wanted her to see it and tell me what she thinks. Umm, why did you come here?" Now that the moment was lost, Leafpool was quickly settling back into reality and she gazed uneasily at Crowfeather. Of all people, why had he been the one to seek her out?

"Is it against the rules to go into the forest if you're not Firestar's kid?" Crowfeather snipped irritably. All warmth inside of her dissipated; it suddenly felt as if she was being held at sword point. At the brunette's startled expression, Crowfeather shook his head and scowled at her. "Look, your sister asked me to come and look for you because she hadn't seen you all day yesterday or all morning today. I got stuck with the job because everyone else was 'busy' having a good time playing around in the water." At his words, Leafpool's heart hardened and she cursed herself for thinking that he had come out on his own accord.  _Of course Squirrelflight told him to come and look for me_ , she thought.  _She always gets uncomfortable if she doesn't see me often enough._

"Just tell her that I'm here by the border of the forest," Leafpool replied coolly, collecting her knife and her art piece. "And thank her for wanting to check up on me." When Crowfeather didn't move, she turned her back to him and added, "Thank you, too. Even if my sister told you to find me, I appreciate you actually coming." She began carving again, pausing only when she heard him step away. As his footsteps faded from the clearing, Leafpool reached forward and stroked the hastily carved leaf with her fingertips.

"Just who are you, Crowfeather?" She murmured softly, remembering the myriad of sentiments that had filled her in his presence. "And just what do you do to me?"

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

"How was Leafpool?" Squirrelflight called from the shade of a willow tree, wringing her hair out. Crowfeather blinked at her before giving his answer.

"She's fine. She's working on a wood carving of some sort. She says that she wants you to see it sooner or later," he reported blandly. When he spotted Feathertail and Stormfur relaxing in middle of the river, he settled down by the trunk of an oak tree. Although the water would be comforting on his burning skin, it would wash away Leafpool's lingering scent.

Crowfeather plucked a plump blade of grass from his surroundings and began to tear it into tiny pieces. What was he doing? Squirrelflight had originally planned to check up with her sister herself, but Crowfeather had volunteered in her stead, muttering something about how she had to be a good hostess for the rest of their friends. It was a stupid excuse, but it had convinced the redhead to stay behind with the others. Despite being part of the group, he often felt as if he was the odd one out. Stormfur and Feathertail had each other while Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt often stuck together. The two Herobexy aristocrats were also extremely close to Squirrelflight, who sort of acted as a connecting point in their group of friends.

He had volunteered out of selflessness and curiosity. Although he and Leafpool crossed paths often, they hardly spared a glance at one another. Being part of Squirrelflight's tightly-knit circle of friends, he felt somewhat obligated to befriend or at least familiarize the redhead's twin sister just a little bit. That was probably what drove him to offer his time to seek out the brunette. Deep inside of his mind, however, was a stubborn protest that there was something more than respect and obligation. There was something mysterious and weirdly attractive about Leafpool that drew in his interest like a fly to a Venus flytrap.

He shivered as he remembered her proximity as he carved his leaf into her piece. He could still smell the delicate vanilla-and-lavender scent that wrapped around her like a blanket. He could feel the warmth that radiated off of her body and forced its way into his, raising the hair on his arms and sending his sense into overdrive. Crowfeather didn't know what was happening to him—from a young age, he had always marveled and fawned over Feathertail. Feathertail was beautiful, graceful, and easy to be with. She always had kind words to say and a friendliness that drew people toward her like a magnet. She was—and still is—the center of his interests, but at the same time, he felt a pull from Leafpool that he couldn't deny.

Leafpool had a similar delicacy to Feathertail. However, where the silver-haired girl was bold and courageous, the brunette shied away and kept to herself. While Feathertail was open and kind, Leafpool was like an endless maze, full of secrets and whispered promises. He often had a hard time believing Squirrelflight's description of the brunette, but after his most recent encounter with her, he was quickly having second thoughts. Leafpool was someone more than a timid, reserved girl. She had a certain touch of pride to her—one that lit her eyes a fiery amber and made her raise her head high. While Feathertail was a sight for sore eyes, Leafpool had a certain beauty to her that only seemed to grow as more sides of her were revealed.

Crowfeather suddenly felt as if he was one of those hopeless characters in the frivolous romance novels that Feathertail and Tawnypelt seemed to love. While he longed for Feathertail's attention, he also felt himself yearn for Leafpool's acknowledgement. He felt a wave of frustration wash over him. He cared for  _Feathertail,_  not Leafpool. He only noticed her out of obligation and respect. Yet at the back of his mind, a voice disagreed with him.  _If you don't care for her, then why did you even try to fix the mistake she made?_  It asked, scowling at him.

He felt guilty for startling her, but was it his remorse what drove him to take up the knife and start carving? He was never good at the arts and often preferred athletics and logistics to art. The leaf that he had crudely carved into the wood screamed amateur, and beside Leafpool's extremely talented work, it stood out like a sore spot. He wondered if she had called it wonderful just to make him feel better. But was it possible to fake that amount of sincerity in her voice?

_"…It's from a dream that I keep having."_  The cat and the crow were from one of her dreams? Strangely enough, the two creatures were present in his dreams whenever he stayed over at the Zephyra manor. The only difference between his interpretation and hers was that there was always a leaf and a feather sitting between the two animals.

_"Just tell her that I'm here by the border of the forest."_  The cold, icy tone of Leafpool's voice had startled him when he informed her of Squirrelflight's concern. As usual, he had little control over his arrogant manner of speaking and had too much pride to apologize for the rudeness of his tone. However, Leafpool's reaction to his words had dumbfounded him. The confused and shy look in her eyes had quickly faded into a cool indifference as she gazed at him. She hadn't shied away like she usually would; she didn't duck her head and absorb whatever harsh words he had to say. Instead, the Leafpool that had poked her head out to smile at him had quickly withdrawn and locked the door to her heart. And hanging from her doorknob was a sign that had "KEEP OUT AND STAY OUT" written in bold.

Suddenly, it felt as if she had become an alien to him. He had always seen her as a shadow, fading away into the background when no one bothered to pay attention to her. She was obedient, quiet, and chose appeasement over confrontation. Now she was proud, shameless, and bold—standing with her chin high and her back straight. Her amber eyes burned a hole into his mind as she stared at him from his memories, daring him to tuck her away into a corner and forget her forever.

Crowfeather shook his head irritably and exited his reverie. He was overreacting to this new side of her. The two of them were most likely going to keep to themselves and avoid each other at all costs. Knowing Leafpool, she was most likely going to do whatever she could to keep their encounters to a minimum. With her extensive knowledge of the layout of the Zephyra manor, it wouldn't be difficult to see very little of her for the last few days of his stay. Either way, a small voice screamed out at him from the depths of his mind and challenged his indifference toward Leafpool.

"There's no reason for me to know her," he reminded himself quietly. But the feeling gnawing at his heart begged to differ. "But who are you…and what do you do to me?"

* * *

Third Person – Squirrelflight

If she were asked to make a list of things that she loved about her sister, Squirrelflight was sure that she would need yards and yards of paper to even get half of those things down. But toward the top of the list, close by her love for Leafpool's gentle smile and melodious laugh was her art. Without a doubt, the brunette was a stunning artist and Squirrelflight often found herself begging her sister to show her the sketches of the day.

Today's art project was no different from any others. She had been excited to hear that her sister was working on a new piece and had raced upstairs as soon as she was finished playing "hostess" to her group of friends. When Leafpool opened the door to her bedroom and dragged the redhead in, Squirrelflight's jaw suddenly decided that it would be a good time to dislocate itself and refuse to function properly. It currently hung, suspended by the skin and muscles of her face as she stared at the wood carving on her sister's bed. Leafpool, who was used to her antics, fidgeted excitedly beside her.

"It's not finished yet," she said bashfully when Squirrelflight finally gathered enough willpower to tear her gaze away from the piece. She gave Squirrelflight a shy, delighted smile when the redhead turned her awestruck gaze back to the carving.

"Eight years old and a prodigy of art," she murmured in wonder, a grin spreading across her face. "You  _have_  to show mama and papa this." After receiving an approving nod from her sister, Squirrelflight ran her fingers over the grooves in the wood. Each cut was smooth and expertly executed, only adding to her delight as she explored the piece with her hands. Her fingers brushed over a roughly cut area and she frowned, pulling her and away and leaning forward to study the spot curiously. "What happened here?" She asked, nodding to the crudely carved leaf. "This isn't your carving style."

An embarrassed and wary look crossed Leafpool's face as she crossed her arms and stared at the leaf. "It's not," she agreed. "It's Crowfeather's."

"Crowfeather?" Squirrelflight repeated in disbelief. "Are you crazy? He can barely draw a tree—let alone carve a leaf!" She scowled at the ragged and crude carving, inwardly cursing her friend for ruining her sister's masterpiece. "He ruined it," she protested, wrapping her arms around herself in frustration.

"Well, it was ruined before that," Leafpool replied exasperatedly, shooting her sister a fond look. "He did a good job for someone so inexperienced. I like it," she said, shrugging at Squirrelflight gave her another taken-aback stare.

"'Ruined before that'? That implies that a mistake was made." A conflicted look crossed Leafpool's face and Squirrelflight frowned. "Leafa, are you hiding something from me?" The thoughtful expression on her sister's face passed quickly and she smiled stiffly, shaking her head slowly.

"It looks even I'm not perfect with my art," she replied, laughing softly. Squirrelflight hesitated at the slight edge in her sister's voice, but decided not to push it. She knew Leafpool hated being pressured, and even if it bothered her that her sister was keeping secrets from her, the redhead kept her mouth shut.  _Everyone thinks that I'm oblivious and simple-minded_ , she thought irritably.  _Yeah right._

"So Crowfeather looked a bit distracted when he came back to us. Anything happen between the two of you when he came to check up on you?" At her question, Leafpool stiffened slightly, and the redhead felt a stab of suspicion at the wary gleam in her sister's eyes.

"No, nothing of the sort." Squirrelflight narrowed her eyes as she watched the brunette. Leafpool was blatantly lying to her. For the first time, the redhead realized that she didn't know her sister as well as she initially thought. _There's a wall between us now, huh?_  She thought sadly, gazing at her sister forlornly. Leafpool tugged at the ends of her hair and Squirrelflight sighed inwardly, recognizing the action as a signal that the brunette was going to change the topic. "Anyway, thank you for sending him to check up on me."

"Sending him?" Squirrelflight repeated slowly. "Leafa, I planned on finding you myself! I was going to come find you but he told me that he'd go in my place. Mumbled some mumbo jumbo about how I had to play the role of a good hostess and whatnot." She shook her head in exasperation.

" _What?_ " Squirrelflight stiffened at the shrill tone of Leafpool's voice. It wasn't like her to suddenly raise her voice like that. In fact, it was rare that the brunette would ever raise her voice at all. "He told me that he was 'stuck with the job' of checking up on me! He said that everyone else was too busy 'playing around in the water'!"

"Playing around in the water?" The redhead spluttered. "I was going to check up on you myself! What the heck, Crowfeather!"  _What in the world does he think he's doing?_ She was definitely going to give him a piece of her mind after all this. He practically told Leafpool that she was worthless and a waste of time!  _Nobody just walks away after talking to my sister like that_ , she thought furiously, turning on her heel and stalking toward the door.

"Not so fast, Squirrelflight." The redhead felt herself being held back as her sister stepped forward, her face contorted in rage. Immediately, the green-eyed girl felt her anger extinguish at the look of fury on her sister's face. She had never seen Leafpool this angry before and she mentally decided that she would never want to cross paths with her sister ever again. She shrunk away slightly, fearfully taking in the stiffness of Leafpool's figure. "My fight, my responsibility. I'll deal with him."

"R-right now?" Squirrelflight choked out as her sister stalked out of the room.

"Yes!" Leafpool snapped.

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

"Check." Crowfeather stifled a yawn as he watched Feathertail corner Bramble claw's king for the fifth time. The two of them were engaged in a rather intense chess match—each person dancing around the other's army as they tried to beat the other. Although Feathertail was older than the dark-haired boy by three years, and therefore more experienced than him, Brambleclaw often found ways to put the Riverside aristocrat in a tight spot. In the past ten minutes, she had been put in a few compromising situations where it seemed that she would lose the battle, but she always managed to find a loophole in the younger aristocrat's strategy.

The remainders of Squirrelflight's friends were strewn around the den, each keeping to themselves. While Crowfeather watched Brambleclaw and Feathertail's chess match with feigned interest, Tawnypelt dozed by the fire and Stormfur thumbed his way through a thick, dusty book from the shelves lining the walls of the room. Neither of the two spared the other three a single glance as the chess match went on.

The hour between dinner and bedtime was often the least exciting portion of each day—everyone was drowsy and satisfied after dessert. In this time, Squirrelflight often chose to leave her friends in the den to seek out her sister and Crowfeather would have to find a way to amuse himself while the others did the same. Just further down the hallway, their parents were probably drinking wine and talking each other's ears off. They would probably be arguing over some sort of petty disagreement or chatting about their childhoods. It seemed that all adults were interested in talking about was the past; Crowfeather wondered distastefully if he would eventually grow up to do the same.

Crowfeather sighed and slumped against the sofa in boredom. Today seemed to be the most restless and boring day of all. Just as he was about to lose himself in his thoughts, a figure stopped before him and a menacing aura washed over him. Startled, the blue-eyed boy lifted his head to see Leafpool staring down at him with a murderous expression on her face. Taken aback, he recoiled slightly, all the more unnerved at the satisfied gleam in her eyes. "Can I help you?" he asked, carefully hiding his discomfort under a layer of indifference.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room became stifling. Crowfeather could almost imagine everyone abandoning whatever they were doing and turn their eyes on the brunette. For once, she didn't seem to flinch under the burning scrutiny of multiple eyes as she glared down at him. At his question, a sickly sweet smile crossed her face and she crossed her arms across her chest. "Yes, actually, there is something you can do." The icy tone of her voice made it feel as if the temperature of the room had just dropped ten degrees. "I'm afraid you owe my sister and me an apology."

"An apology?" Damn. There was his pride again. "For what?" The grin on Leafpool's face only grew wider and suddenly Crowfeather felt as if he had just tangoed with the devil.

"You are a cruel, cruel person," she murmured coldly. "You pretended that my sister was  _inconsiderate_  enough to send someone to check up on me on the premise that she was too busy 'playing in the water'." The look in her eyes grew hard. "And I understand. You may think I'm overreacting about your choice of words, but I have something to say to you." A sadistic smile tugged at Leafpool's lips as she leaned forward slightly, nearly bringing herself down to eye-level with him. Crowfeather distractedly noticed the sound of quickly approaching footsteps as Leafpool's amber eyes narrowed at him. "Swallow your damn pride," she whispered.

"Leafpool!" Everyone's eyes turned to the den doorway, where a slightly flushed Firestar and Squirrelflight were staring at the brunette in horror. "Language!" Ignoring her father, the amber-eyed girl redirected her attention to Crowfeather.

"You're only going to hurt the people around you with the way you talk," she told him bitterly. "And you're going to suffer because of it. People will walk away from you if you can't learn to say something  _nice_  for once. Say something  _right_  for once. If you don't…" she cocked her head to the side slowly. "You're going to find yourself alone very, very quickly. And you're going to break because of that. You're going to break because you can't wrap your mind around the fact that your pride is what hurts the people around you!" Her voice rose angrily and her upper lip curled slightly in a snarl.

"I'm not your friend," she said suddenly, the fire in her eyes quickly being washed over with a frosty sheet of ice. "So I'm not scared of telling you this: put my sister down in  _any way_  and I will hunt you down to the ends of Zendiria, You underestimate me, Crowfeather. I am  _more_  than capable of breaking you, and  _I'm not hesitant to do it._ " She stepped back, gave him one last glare and walked over to her father.

"Father," she greeted him curtly. "Do you wish to have a word with me?" Firestar and Squirrelflight, like many others in the room gaped at her as she raised her head to meet his eyes. Crowfeather, quickly overcoming his shock, noticed the fearful and wistful glance that Leafpool tossed at her sister.  _What a girl_ , a small voice inside of him mused dazedly.  _She doesn't regret a single thing that she said. She really loves her sister, doesn't she?_  Crowfeather begrudgingly agreed with the look that Brambleclaw, who was the second to recover from Leafpool's words, shot in his direction.  _I had it coming_ , he thought dejectedly.

"I do." Sandstorm's face appeared in the midst of chaos as Firestar closed and opened his mouth multiple times in an attempt to find his voice. He cast a startled look over his shoulder at his wife as she beckoned to their daughter. "Upstairs. I'd like to have a word with you in your bedroom." Suddenly, it looked as if all the adrenaline that had powered Leafpool had disappeared from her bloodstream as her shoulders sagged and she stepped out of the room to follow her mother upstairs.

Crowfeather heard Sandstorm's voice cut through the silence as she addressed her husband and her daughter. "Firestar, Squirrelflight; remember to close your mouths before the flies crawl in." Both aristocrats snapped their jaws together like bear traps and stared dazedly over their shoulders after their retreating family members.

Squirrelflight, who somewhat recovered from her sister's outburst faster than her father, gave Crowfeather a bone-chilling glare. "You heard her, Crowfeather," she growled. "And the same goes for me. Put down my sister, and I'll give you a piece of my mind. I'll go easy on you since you're a friend, but…consider yourself warned."

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

To her complete and utter surprise, she did not receive the scolding that her mother's words had implied. Instead, once the door to her bedroom had been shut, Sandstorm had wrapped her arms around her daughter and smiled proudly at her. "My little girl is finally standing up for herself," the auburn-haired woman cooed, absentmindedly stroking her daughter's hair. "I'm so proud of you."

"Mother?" Leafpool asked weakly.

"Ah—right." The serious look reappeared on her mother's face and the green-eyed woman regarded her daughter sternly. "You're eating alone for three weeks and you're not allowed to stay up late to work on your art." At Leafpool's startled expression, Sandstorm smiled wryly. "You thought I wouldn't notice?" She teased, a mischievous light sparkling in her eyes. "You're my daughter! Of course I'd notice!" She paused and cleared her throat awkwardly. "You'll also be required to help the maids with the chores for a month and you have to help the stablemen with the horses for a week. I'm sure they will not notice if you decide to take long breaks in between duties."

Her mother quivered slightly before her façade cracked and another proud smile spread across her face. "I am so proud of you right now," she whispered. "You're growing up to be a strong woman."

"Mother…" Leafpool was at a loss for words. How in the world could her mother be proud of her right now? Now that her anger had faded, she realized just what she had said to Crowfeather and she faintly remembered catching a glimpse of his parents as she followed her mother upstairs. She probably ruined the relationship between the houses of Zephyra and Ebenwing just by speaking out like that. "I just insulted one of the most prestigious families in the house of Ebenwing? Aren't you…being rather lenient with my punishment?" A look of concern crossed her mother's face and Sandstorm frowned thoughtfully at her daughter.

"Leafpool, I understand that you think that the punishment is insufficient. And as much as I know you're going to hate the answer I'm about to give you, I need you to know that the punishment is more than enough." When Leafpool opened her mouth to protest, Sandstorm raised a finger to silence her. "Ashfoot and Deadfoot are both agreeable and understanding people. They may be a little shaken up, but once Squirrelflight—or one of the others—explains what happened to them, they won't take offense to your words. In fact, they'll probably agree with you." Sandstorm frowned softly. "I won't lie to you; the rest of Ebenwing may not agree with their judgment once this news reaches out to them. But as a secret between you and me, the house of Ebenwing is weakening. Right now, they'll do whatever they can to keep some sort of power in our political system even though they're running out of heritage blood.

"Anyway, the punishment that I've given you is mostly to appease the Ebenwings that might be ruffled up by what you said to Crowfeather. And also to see if our new maids respect us enough to keep to themselves and not gossip with servants from the other houses." A scowl crossed the auburn-haired woman's face and Leafpool mentally noted that her mother seemed to have some standing resentment toward gossiping staff. "Your father is proud of you too—just give him a time to realize that his daughter doesn't need to hide behind him anymore and he'll tell you just how proud he is." Sandstorm smiled gently at her daughter. "You did the right thing. You stood up for your sister and you and for yourself. That's all I could ever ask for.

"Leafpool, that was the first time that I have ever seen you lose your temper with someone. Even when you disagree with things, you don't speak up for yourself. And the dedication that you showed to Squirrelflight today makes it clear to me that you love her very much." A wistful smile crossed Sandstorm's face. "I'm not scared of this family breaking apart anymore. I was always afraid that you would break away because of how everyone thinks that you're just living in the shadow of your sister. But you're not. You proved that tonight—to everyone."

Despite the overjoyed haze that was clouding Leafpool's mind at her mother's praise, she couldn't help but feel a dark shadow settle over her heart.  _Not scared of this family breaking apart anymore? Our family was breaking apart?_  But something inside of Leafpool inhibited her from asking her mother for clarification. The haunted look in her mother's eyes made the brunette wonder if her world was going to start falling to pieces around her.

The last few days flew by with little incident. Leafpool stood respectfully by the doorway as Squirrelflight hugged her friends and waved goodbye as their carriages rode away. Tawnypelt stopped by the brunette and gave her a tight hug, giving her a gentle smile before promising that she and her brother would pay them another visit sometime soon.

Out of all of Squirrelflight's friends, Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw lived closest. Herobexy manor was approximately forty-five minutes away from the Zephyra manor and the two aristocrats took to visiting Firestar's family at least twice a month. Graystripe was usually the one who drove them over on the weekends, seeing that he practically lived at the Zephyra manor with occasional visits to his childhood home. Crowfeather's home was much further away—it took about eleven hours to travel to and from his manor to Firestar's. As for Stormfur and Feathertail, their manor was at least ten hours away. The two Riverside aristocrats usually spent an entire day getting to and from the Zephyra manor. Because of how much further away the two of them were, their visits were much less frequent and with luck, they would visit at least three times a year with Graystripe bringing them over.

Dustpelt, who was responsible for bringing the Herobexy aristocrats home, saluted to Sandstorm and flicked the reigns. Leafpool watched as Squirrelflight brushed past Crowfeather and moved over to hug Feathertail and her brother. The redhead and the silver-haired girl kissed each other on the cheek and waved goodbye before they climbed into their carriage. Graystripe, who was responsible for getting them home, hugged Sandstorm and gave Firestar a warm squeeze on the shoulder. "See ya in a bit, Leafpool," he murmured affectionately before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"See you in a bit, Graystripe," she whispered back. His amber eyes twinkled at her before he climbed onto his coach and started up the horses. Leafpool watched nervously as Squirrelflight turned to her remaining friend—Crowfeather. The two of them shared a cautious hug and Leafpool felt a stab of guilt for creating a rift between her sister and her friend. Lifting his head from Squirrelflight's shoulder, Crowfeather directed his icy blue eyes to where Leafpool stood and she flinched at the intensity of his gaze. The two of them stared at one another until Squirrelflight pulled away from him and he stepped back to follow his parents into their carriage. As they drove away, Leafpool stared after the coach, wondering if Crowfeather was staring back at her through the tinted glass.

"You okay, Leafa?"

"I'm fine," Leafpool affirmed quietly. "But I should be asking you that. After all, our tutors are returning tomorrow." She couldn't help but smile at her sister's dramatic groan and disgruntled mumbles at the thought of their tutoring sessions.

"Why can't we just give them vacations for the rest of their lives? I'm sure hunting will do me much better," Squirrelflight declared loudly throwing a look in her father's direction.

"That's because we don't have enough money to do that for all of your professors," Sandstorm replied curtly, her lips twitching in amusement.

"Not to mention that, but the whole reason why we pay tutors to teach you is because we want you two to grow up to be educated young women," Firestar quipped, snorting affectionately at his two daughters. "Tell you what; if you attend each and every session for the weeks to come, I'll reward you by taking you to self-defense lessons with me. Leafpool can come too, if she's interested."

"Whadaya say, Leafa?" Squirrelflight asked immediately, whirling around to face her sister. "Doesn't that seem fun? Now you can actually figure out how to take down Crowfeather!"

"Figure out?" Leafpool echoed. "What are you talking about? I know exactly how to hunt him down." She paused and added, "But the lessons do sound interesting. I'd like to come too, father."

"Hunt him down?" Firestar repeated, a stricken expression coming across his face. Beside him, Sandstorm's eyes glittered with amusement. "I don't remember any of the tutors having hunting lessons in their curriculum."

"We don't have hunting lessons if we're not out hunting, father," Leafpool giggled. "It's easy enough to learn how to hunt  _and_  take someone down."

"Enlighten me."

"Well…acupuncture." At her father's raised eyebrows, Leafpool flushed uncomfortably. "They teach you about pressure points and everything. If you were to apply enough pressure to certain spot, you could easily kill someone…"

"And who's teaching you acupuncture?"

"Your library?"

"My libr—what? My library? What kind of books do I have in there?" Firestar slapped his forehead in confusion.

"Obviously the kind that can teach Leafpool how to take someone down," Sandstorm retorted. She smiled thoughtfully at her daughter. "I think it's alright that she knows all of this, though. I trust Leafpool to be reasonable and rational." She shot an amused glance at Squirrelflight, who protested at not being considered reasonable or rational. "After all, she's only read about the different pressure points, right? It takes practice to actually learn how to work with them."

"That's true," Leafpool agreed. "But I can't say that it's impossible to work through trial and error."

"That, I would like to say no to," Firestar said quickly, completely missing the mischievous smiles his wife and daughter shared. "I don't need you killing half the population before deciding how much pressure is really needed to kill someone."

"Don't worry, father. I'm more interested in saving lives than taking them." She puffed her chest out slightly. "Cinderpelt says that she wants to teach me how to be a doctor. She says that she'll start letting me dissect animals if you'd let me."

"We'll see," Firestar sighed.

"The best doctors come from those who have had experience early on," Sandstorm pointed out.

"Are you with me or are you not?" Firestar looked exasperatedly at his wife.

"I'm doing what I think is right, and that is to allow my daughter to study things that will only benefit her." She gave her husband a pointed look. "Now you're not going to divest our daughter of that, are you?"

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

He bid his parents goodnight despite the fact that it was early in the morning. Although the trip had only taken about six hours, he was exhausted. It was nearly impossible to fall asleep on the road, especially with how bumpy the roads could be if the driver was not careful. Thankfully, his parents understood his need to take the day off and quickly went to do the same.

Crowfeather climbed up the spiral staircase of the house, nodding sleepily at the butlers who bowed to him on his way to his room. Closing the doors behind him, he stripped himself quickly and dazedly reminded himself that his little vacation was over. Tomorrow's schedule would undeniably be the same as usual. Tutoring, fencing lessons and other activities that Crowfeather would have to participate in order to inherit the role as the head of the house of Ebenwing.

Although it was most reasonable for Deadfoot to become the next head of the house after Tallstar (seeing it as he was the only adult male with heritage blood in Ebenwing), the current head insisted that it would be easier to teach both father and son the responsibilities of being the head at once. In all honesty, Crowfeather wasn't looking forward to the idea of becoming head of Ebenwing. Now that there were only three members of the house in possession of heritage blood, a lot of the inherited aristocrats feared that they would lose their status as nobles and clung onto their current leader like limpets. Becoming head seemed like a suffocating position that Crowfeather was less than willing to occupy, but he was still forced to attend Telstar's lessons.

As his throbbing head reminded him of his body's need for sleep, the blue-eyed boy walked over to his windows and quickly pulled the curtains over the glass. Yawning, he slid under the covers and shifted for a few moments before drifting off into sleep.

* * *

_Crowfeather stepped along the pebbled shore of a wide river, turning over the smooth stones as he passed. He shook his body irritably—the light drizzle was making his pelt thick and heavy. As he continued to walk along the water, he began to wonder what he was even doing by the river. Windclan cats were probably the most resentful toward water—rabbits disliked the rain just as much as felines did. Although it was good to have rain bringing in the new shoots of grass for rabbits, it forced the outdoors-obsessed cats to take shelter in caves, tunnels, and under trees. Crowfeather shook his head irritably at the thought—he would much rather sleep outside with the wind blowing over his head like a caress. At the same time, a damp pelt often equated to the contraction of greencough or whitecough._

_The river spilled into a pool that reflected the stars that filled the sky above. He glanced back at the mouth of the river and watched the starlight glittered across its moving surface. 'Father, can you hear me?' Crowfeather thought to himself as he lifted his nose to the lights that twinkled overhead. 'Tallstar, are you watching over me?' Two of the most respected figures of his life were gone—leaving him alone in an unfamiliar land that was just recently discovered by the clans._

_"Crowfeather," a gentle voice called. Crowfeather whipped his head around just as a stunning silver tabby stepped out of the grass. Her blue eyes shimmered as she padded toward him, her feathered tail lifted high above her head in greeting. His heart melted at the tenderness in her eyes._

_"Feathertail," he whispered. "I knew you'd be here." He leaned forward to touch noses with her. When her figure passed over his, he felt a twinge of bitterness. It was hard to love a cat who no longer walked on the face of the earth. It was even harder when she still visited his dreams._

_"Of course, Crowfeather. I'll always be here." Crowfeather drew back in shock when the cold, ghostly muzzle solidified and became warm, pressing against his gently. Instead of meeting the crystalline blue eyes of Feathertail, he found himself drowning in the depths of Leafpool's amber eyes._

_"Of course you will," Crowfeather murmured quietly, a warmth spreading though his entire body as rubbing his head against her chin. "Always." Instead of hearing her familiar, rumbling purr, and the sleekness of her pelt as she intertwined her tail with his, he felt Leafpool pull away from him as the image of Feathertail stepped between them._

_"Crowfeather," the silver cat whispered, her eyes glowing passionately at him._

_"Feathertail…Leafpool?" Torn, the dark-haired tom glanced back and forth between the two she-cats. Leafpool watched him woefully before bowing her head and retreating. Feathertail padded over to him immediately, purring as she wrapped herself around him. Staring after Leafpool, who stopped a few fox-lengths away, he felt his breath catch in his throat. "I-I don't understand. What's happening here?" Feathertail blinked at him and glanced over to Leafpool, who turned to face an advancing shadow. Crowfeather bristled slightly when a black tom walked out of the darkness and touched noses with the honey-brown cat._

_"Crowfeather, you didn't know?" Concern and uncertainty shone in Feathertail's blue eyes as she blocked his view of the two cats. "You have been chosen." Peering past Feathertail, he saw Leafpool pick up a jet-black feather and gaze at him with forlorn eyes. "And you have chosen."_

_"Chosen? Chosen for what?" It was difficult for him to pull away from Feathertail, but the heartbroken expression in Leafpool's eyes as the black tom wound around her tugged at Crowfeather's heartstrings._

_"Chosen for—"_

"Wake up, young master. You've been asleep for well over fifteen hours. Your tutor should arrive soon. Please eat your breakfast while it's still fresh." Crowfeather blinked blearily as rays of sunlight flooded his room. He stared dazedly at his butler, who patiently stood with a tray in his hands.

_What was all that about?_  Crowfeather thought to himself as he lifted himself up into a seating position and took the tray from his butler.  _Feathertail and Leafpool? In a dream together? What was Feathertail talking about—with chosen things and whatnot? Why were all of us cats? Who was that black cat that just popped up out of nowhere?_ Crowfeather paused.  _Why was Leafpool holding a black feather?_

"Young master, the food is spilling over." Startled, the black-haired boy quickly repositioned the tray on his knees and let out a sigh of relief when the glass of orange juice didn't tip over. "I have news from a maid. It seems that your tutor will meet you in the library in about fifteen minutes. I suggest you hurry, young master." Crowfeather looked down uncertainly at the food on his plate before wolfing it down. Thrusting the tray in his butler's direction, he stumbled over to the bathroom in order to compose himself.

* * *

Third Person – Omniscient

A woman studied the stars above and swirled the teacup within her fingers as she leaned against her screen door. The starlight glittered on the white-streaked hair and her tired eyes lifted up to the heavens. She took a small sip from the tea in her hands, relishing the subtle bitterness of the beverage. All was quiet until two stars from opposite ends of the sky streaked across the dark night and disappeared at a single point. The woman stiffened and raced inside, downing the rest of her tea and racing to her kitchen table.

She grabbed a stack of cards, a notepad, and set her empty teacup down. Pulling up a chair, she quickly seated herself and took to analyzing the contents of the porcelain cup. She made note of the two crossed items at the bottom—both which where pointed at one end and rounded off toward the end—and what seemed to be a sprig of grass or a sapling of some sort.

_Two leaves (?), Sprig of grass, Sapling (?)_

She briskly pushed her teacup away and pulled the cards toward her. She shuffled the deck, split it in half, and shuffled it. She flipped over the first card and froze at the image. Quickly, she drew eleven more cards and laid them out in the order in which she had drawn them.

The first card was split diagonally between a black figure and a white figure.  _The friend and the foe_. The second displayed a glowing orb that filled the entire card with light and purity.  _The truth_. The third depicted a crowned lion in a plain of grass.  _The king_. The fourth contained a picture of a hive of some sorts.  _The kingdom_. The fifth revealed a shooting star.  _Dreams_   _and achievement_. The sixth showed a crouched man with bleeding calves who was clenching his fists and shouting in a hunched-over position.  _Hardship_. The seventh was of a serpent coiling around a skeletal figure.  _The viper_. The eighth contained a scale.  _A choice_. The ninth card was of a shadow towering over a figure.  _The Shadow_. The tenth was of a beautiful woman cupping a star in her palms.  _Destiny._  The eleventh depicted a skeletal figure with a dark cloak and a long, curved scythe.  _Death_. The twelfth showed two pathways weaving together until they disappeared into the distance.  _Lover's destiny._

The woman spread out the twelve cards and trailed her fingers over them. "The friend and the foe, the truth, the king, the kingdom, the dreams and achievement, hardship, the viper, a choice, the shadows, destiny, death, and the chosen lovers." Frowning at the ominous message of her cards, the woman pulled over her teacup again all while adding to her notes.

Two leaves, raindrops, feathers (?) – Unity of two people? Birds of a feather? Leaves of a tree? Sprig of grass/herbs (?) – healing, cooking, the earth, Sapling (?) – earth, life, trees, stability

Her furious scribbling stopped just as the point of her quill snapped clean off. She stared at the notebook and her cards, alternating between the two as she quickly made connections between them.  _King…the king of the cards, the grass of the earth, the tree…_  Suddenly, the realization hit her. "The next king has been chosen," she whispered, eyes darting around her empty home. Puzzled, she tapped the  _Death_  card and frowned. "But this death is not of Willowpelt the Third…"


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leafpool's first Starreign dream opens her eyes up to some familial tensions and Crowfeather quickly learns that Leafpool is not who he thought she would be.

Third Person – Squirrelflight

It took Firestar five years to finally give into Leafpool's wishes and give Cinderpelt the "okay". Squirrelflight been ecstatic at the thought of her sister pursuing her dream, but she quickly realized that the more time Leafpool spent studying, the less time she had for everything else. The brunette seemed to stop drawing and Squirrelflight began to reminisce about the days where Leafpool would linger outside of their father's study to ask for a new sketchbook. In addition to this, the amber-eyed girl had less and less time to actually  _eat_  with the rest of her family. Squirrelflight had been a little unnerved when she saw Leafpool's chair empty at dinnertime, but balked when she realized her sister stopped attending family meals altogether.

Whenever the redhead tried to get ahold of the brunette, Leafpool would often apologize and mutter something about how she had back-to-back classes with her tutors. Now, it seemed as if Leafpool didn't have time to check up with her sister—or even just give her a hug. No, Leafpool was too busy pushing past her limits, pursuing her dreams, and finding who she really was. As much as Squirrelflight resented how her sister didn't even have time for her, she couldn't take any of that away from Leafpool. Instead, she did whatever she could to help the brunette.

It was ritual for Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt to seek out Leafpool whenever they visited, but Squirrelflight would drag them around the manor until they were too tuckered out to care. Whenever it seemed that her sister was hitting a slump in her studies, Squirrelflight would bring up a cup of milk and honey to soothe her mind. When Leafpool passed out at her desk, the redhead would carefully wrap a blanket around her sister and blow out the candles.

In the meantime, Squirrelflight took to strengthening her body and sharpening her skills. At the end of every week, she spent would spend an entire day with her father—either hunting or sparring. In her free time, she would help the stablemen with the horses and help the maids carry laundry around the manor. She practiced archery with her mother, shooting with her dad, wrestling with Graystripe, and cooking from the kitchen staff. She did everything she could to fill up the empty, lonely spot that Leafpool once inhabited in her heart.

In the midst of her chaotic life, Squirrelflight found herself noticing all the little things she never considered when she was younger. Firestar kept more to himself and she often saw butlers bringing empty bottles down from the master bedroom. He seemed to grow more and more distracted during her practices and just yesterday, he snapped at Graystripe for commenting about the weather. The heritage aristocrat took to staring out the windows, muttering to himself, and pacing while Squirrelflight took in the reactions of the staff and her family.

Cinderpelt often shielded Leafpool from noticing anything about her father, and while Squirrelflight was thankful that her sister was being spared, a part of her was furious that her sister was kept oblivious. Graystripe began to plaster fake smiles on his face and spent more time out in the fields than in the den. The maids chirped worriedly to themselves, casting sympathetic looks to the various aristocrats that walked by. The tutors became even more stiff than usual, although they all seemed to sag whenever they were in the safety of the library or Squirrelflight's room.

Out of everyone, Squirrelflight's mother was taking to her husband's actions the hardest. The lively, charismatic woman turned ashen and dazed. The smallest thing could set her temper off, but it took only a few seconds before she was stuttering her apologies and staring off in horror. There were a few times that Squirrelflight had walked into the den to see Graystripe kneeling before a sobbing Sandstorm. The gray-haired man often pressed a finger to his lips and gently held the crying woman's hands within his own. In those moments, Squirrelflight could only stare at the husk of the aristocrat who used to be her mother and it wasn't long before she pieced the pieces together. The only problem was to get Leafpool to see how exactly their family was falling apart.

She had waited months already. Squirrelflight could almost see her mother snap in half like a dry twig. Clearing her throat, she knocked determinedly on her sister's door and called out to her. "Leafpool? Can we talk for a few minutes?" The furious sound of scribbling stopped and a few long seconds passed before the brunette was at the door. Squirrelflight took in her sister's appearance, feeling a bitter lump grow in her throat as the bags under Leafpool's eyes and how frazzled her hair was.

"Squirrelflight?" The brunette blinked twice, as if she wasn't sure if her sister was really before her. "Of course! Come on in." She stepped aside and Squirrelflight entered the room, feeling a flicker of hope run through her at the sight of the sketches that decorated the walls. Flowers, faces, and scenes took the place of the medical notes that Squirrelflight imagined her sister would have everywhere. Momentarily forgetting her original purpose for coming, the redhead stroked a sketch of two people splashing one another. Scrawled below the image were the names "Squirrelflight" and "Brambleclaw". The redhead felt a smile touch her lips as she turned to face her sister.

"You put up your sketches," she murmured thoughtfully. Leafpool frowned at her, cocking her head to the side slightly.

"Of course," the brunette replied uncertainly. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I thought you'd have medical notes and pictures of the human body up instead…" Squirrelflight snorted at the sheer absurdity of her own thoughts. Leafpool shot her a bemused grin before raising her eyes and scanning her walls.

"I miss you all," she admitted, crossing her arms. "I'd come down more often if I could, but for the past few weeks, I've been staring at my sketches in place of your faces."

"Well, at least they look like us. Guess I don't have to worry about being forgotten by my sister anymore," Squirrelflight chuckled. A tender smile crossed Leafpool's face and she gazed at her sister lovingly.

"I could never forget you, Squirrelflight," she whispered. The two of them shared a warm smile before Squirrelflight quickly remembered why she dropped by.

"Leafa, there's something wrong in our family." Immediately, the peaceful expression on Leafpool's face was replaced with seriousness. The redhead fidgeted with her hands before blurting out, "I think papa's tearing us apart. I don't know why he's doing it, but—"

"Father tearing us apart? How?"

"He yelled at Graystripe for talking about the weather, the butlers keep on bringing empty wine bottles from his room…" She trailed off, gazing helplessly at her sister. "Mama's been fading, Leafa. Fading and crying like a shadow."

"Mother? Leafpool's eyes flew open in shock. "I—oh Starreign—how did I not notice?"

_Cinderpelt's been keeping secrets to keep up your morale,_  Squirrelflight thought ruefully. She would've done the same had she been in the tutor's shoes. "You've been busy studying," the redhead offered, crossing her legs.

"Studying isn't a good enough excuse to be oblivious to the fact that our family's breaking into pieces!" Leafpool snapped, her eyebrows furrowing in distress. She bit her lip out of nervous habit. "What do we do?" Squirrelflight squeezed her eyes tightly before meeting her sister's anxious amber eyes.

"I don't know, Leafa."

* * *

 

Third Person - Leafpool

_Leafpool flicked her tail back and forth as she lifted her eyes to the starry sky. When sleep failed to find her, Leafpool had stepped out of her den to listen to the sound of the clan at night. Firestar and Sandstorm were most likely curled up together in his den while Squirrelflight rested with the others in the warrior's den._ I should try to get some sleep again _, she thought to herself as she turned to pad into her den again._

_Just as she turned her head, a small, glowing light caught the corner of her eye. Freezing, Leafpool watched as the orb drifted by her nose and fluttered away, pausing a few feet away. When she stared after it, it floated closer to her before drifting back to its earlier location. Glancing around her nervously, Leafpool decided to follow the orb, carefully making her way through the camp without causing too much noise. Trailing a tail-length behind the orb, Leafpool allowed it to lead her to moonpool. The brown she-cat's ears flattened in confusion as she made her way to the sacred body of water. The entire expanse of sky was reflected on its waters, glittering and shimmering as its surface rippled._

Starclan, why have you called me here? _Was there a message for her to bring to Mothwing again? Or a solution to Squirrelflight's tangled relationship with Ashfur and Brambleclaw?_ Maybe… _Was she summoned to address her sentiments on—_

_"Leafpool." The she-cat jumped at her name and whirled around to see a beautiful tortoiseshell cat pad toward her. Immediately, she relaxed, her tail sweeping in an arc before resting at her side._

_"Spottedleaf. Did you wish to speak to me?" The newcomer's ears twitched and she shook her head._

_"No, it seems that it was your own heart that brought you here. It was also your troubled heart that drew me here." Spottedleaf cocked her head and gazed thoughtfully at Leafpool. "What is it you wish to know, Leafpool?" The brown she-cat's fur prickled uncomfortably at her elder's question. There was so much she wanted to ask; so much to know about everything. But there was one answer that she needed to know more than anything else._

_"Are you in love with my father?" She blurted out, claws unintentionally unsheathing in her haste. Graystripe, the beloved storyteller of their manor, had once told her that Firestar had fallen in love with a woman from Necrasung. It seemed that he had loved her so much that he had intended to marry her, but disaster struck before he could propose._

"It was a strange time," _she remembered Graystripe saying._ "He courted her for three months before he wanted to marry her. I was a bit surprised, but hey, it only took me five months to decide I wanted to marry Silverstream."  _A thoughtful, wistful expression crossed the man's face._ "I think he really loved her. He wasn't the same after she died. Even though Sandstorm did bring some of him back,"  _he had added quickly._ "I think he still hasn't gotten over her death yet. I think some part of him still loves her dearly." Even more than he loves mother? _That had been the question that Leafpool sealed in her throat, hoping that it would never come to the surface. But now, faced with the threat of her family falling apart at the seams, it seemed like the best time to find her answer._

_Spottedleaf seemed completely taken aback by Leafpool's question. The tortoiseshell cat stared at her for a few minutes before her figure relaxed. "Leafpool, that's not of importance. All you need to know is that your father loves your mother very much—"_

_"No, it is," Leafpool insisted, cutting the she-cat off. Something was gnawing uncomfortably at her heart when she saw a wary lock flicker through Spottedleaf's eyes. "Are you in love with my father?"_

_"Leafpool. "Spottedleaf sounded exhausted, fear more apparent in her voice._

_"Are. You. In. Love. With. My. Father?" Leafpool grit out._

_"Yes. I have and I always will be." An icy dagger pierced her heart at Spottedleaf's words—the eternal love proclamation only seemed to increase the distance between her parents right now. "But Leafpool, please understand—"_

_"If you were alive right now, would you be standing by his side?" When the medicine cat failed to answer her, Leafpool bristled angrily. "Well?" She demanded._

_"Yes."_

_"Did you love him when courted you?"_

_"At the very end, yes." Spottedleaf's eyes gazed beseechingly into Leafpool's. "Your father is an amazing man," she whispered. "His love made me remember how I felt for him in a past life. At the end of our courtship…I loved him far more than I ever have before." A tender look crossed her face. "The way he looks at me when I visit his dreams…I am still in love with your father, Leafpool. Truly, and deeply in love."_

_Her words made Leafpool feel as if someone had raked their claws down the side of her face._ Betrayal. Anger. Disbelief. _She couldn't believe Spottedleaf still visited her father. She couldn't believe how her father was treating her mother._ Fear. _Every hair on Leafpool's pelt stood up suddenly and Spottedleaf's eyes quickly flickered back to her surprise. This couldn't be. Leafpool couldn't even imagine how broken their family would ever be if Firestar were to fall back in love with Spottedleaf._ How do you know he's not in love with her right now? _A small voice challenged her._

_"Leafpool, do not fear for your family." The she-cat turned her eyes on the tortoiseshell in disbelief. How could she say that? Spottedleaf's eyes glittered bitterly. "I was never meant to fall in love—and neither are you." Leafpool's blood chilled as the medicine cat gazed at her with bitter humor. "Romance is an illusion for medicine cats like us," Spottedleaf whispered, stalking toward her. "Take your feelings…" Her amber eyes cut into Leafpool like a knife. "…_ and destroy them. _" The brown she-cat opened her mouth to reply, but before she could do anything, Spottedleaf's jaws closed around her neck._

Leafpool awoke with a jolt, breathing heavily as she gathered her bearings. Her hands flew up to her neck, probing for tender spots or open wounds.  _It was a dream,_  she thought dazedly, staring at her spotless hands. Then time caught up to her and her dream crashed over her like a wave.  _Great Starreign,_  she thought, throwing off her covers.  _I have to talk to Squirrelflight!_

 

* * *

Squirrelflight had all but stormed out of her room when she heard what had happened last night. The redhead growled something about "letting off some steam" before disappearing from the manor. Leafpool, who stood in the same place for at least five minutes in shock, finally collected her thoughts and drifted to the dining room. After informing the servants of what she wanted, she settled down in her usual spot, frowning when the chair felt different.

_I haven't sit here for a long time_ , Leafpool thought, suddenly wondering just how many dinnertime conversations that she missed. If she had eaten here with everyone else…would she have been able to see exactly what Squirrelflight had seen all along?  _I can't study for the rest of my life_ , she thought irritably.  _I need to start organizing my life. I can't study all day and I can't spend all day with my family._ Her temples throbbed and she rubbed at them absentmindedly, throwing a brief smile over her shoulder when a servant placed her breakfast before her.  _I'll just have to compromise, then._

Taking a small bite of her eggs, a smile graced her lips when its flavors exploded in her mouth. It had been a long time since she was able to enjoy any meal like this. She usually ate and worked at the same time, often oblivious to what she was putting in her mouth. There was even one time where Cinderpelt had stopped her from putting a buttered sock into her mouth. "Wouldn't want to forget your favorite, would we?" Leafpool nearly jumped at the sudden voice, but relaxed when she saw one of the servants wink at her as he set a glass of orange juice next to her plate. "Freshly squeezed in a manner of seconds—the chef nearly had a dancing fit when he saw you come in."

"It has been a while," she agreed.

"Well then, welcome back," he replied, giving her one last grin before heading back into the kitchen. Leafpool blinked after him gratefully before turning back to her food. The head chef had certainly gone out of his way for her, she thought as she poked at the tomato slices on her plate. Sausages, scrambled eggs, tomato slices, jam with bread—all of her breakfast favorites. She giggled as she took another sip of orange juice, tasting the small sugar lumps that didn't melt properly in the beverage.  _How sweet_ , she thought fondly,  _and quite literally as well. It's been a long time since I've had sweetened orange juice._

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Leafpool looked up to see Graystripe grinning at her from the doorway. "Did you notice how much dust was collecting on your chair? I swear that the staff wasn't wiping down your chair just to show you how long you haven't eaten with us!" The brunette ran her finger over the edge of her chair and snorted when she saw the layer of dust on her skin. "Of course, I managed to convince them to give it a wipe every two weeks. You should've seen the fight that Squirrely put up against me!" Leafpool giggled and Graystripe pressed a kiss to her temple before sitting down to her left.

"You're looking a bit pale," he murmured softly. "Feeling alright?"

"Sleepy," Leafpool replied, taking another bite of her eggs. She glanced at the clock and raised an eyebrow at him. "I didn't expect you to be up this early."

"Early? Leafy, it's already six thirty." Amusement twinkled in his amber eyes. "If anything, this is  _late_  for me."

"But father always said you had a hard time waking up in the morning."

"Having kids can change you, Leafy. If my kids wanted me to wake up at four every morning just to say good night, I'd do it in a second." Graystripe smiled gratefully over his shoulder when a servant gently set his dinner before him. "Anyway, it seems that Firestar hasn't changed his habits yet. Lazy aristocrat," he snorted fondly, shaking his head. "Where's Squirrely? She's been keeping me company in these early mornings…"

"She's…frustrated with something," Leafpool replied, suddenly losing her appetite. "I think she went out to relieve some stress." Graystripe cocked an eyebrow at her and she hesitated before spilling out the thoughts that were accumulating in her mind. "Squirrelflight told me that father's been hurting mother lately. I've been so busy that I haven't noticed, and…" she paused before choking out, "I think it's because of Spottedleaf." At her name, Graystripe stiffened visibly and a dark look crossed his face.

" _What?_ " he hissed. His amber eyes blazed with a mixture of shock and anger. "Wh—wha—how— _her_?" When Leafpool gave him a small nod, he stared down at his plate in disgust. "That's it," he growled, pushing away from the table. "I'm going to have a talk with him." Noticing the worried expression on Leafpool's face, he gave her a quick smile and ruffled her hair. "Just a talk, Leafy. I'll see if I can kn—talk some sense into him." Shaking his head, Graystripe left the dining room and a very anxious Leafpool behind.  _Starreign help us_ , she thought helplessly.

 

* * *

When Graystripe promised to talk to Firestar, Leafpool had been expecting the worst. It seemed to come true the next morning, when both men appeared at the dining table roughed up and wary. One of Graystripe's eyes was swollen and black and there was a hard bruise on his cheek. Firestar, on the hand, came to breakfast with a cut lip and bruises on his cheekbone and jaw. Squirrelflight, who walked in for the meal a little later than usual, had stared at both men throughout breakfast, alternating between the two. Sandstorm kept her head down the entire time, nibbling at her food before deciding that she couldn't even pretend to eat. Firestar pointedly ignored his wife the entire time, keeping his eyes firmly planted on his plate.

Graystripe smiled apologetically at Leafpool when he caught her eye and winced when he chewed on his toast. Squirrelflight looked absolutely livid, all but ripping her meal apart with her forks. Gathering up her courage, Leafpool picked up her plate and excused herself. She walked into the kitchen and apologized to the chef for not finishing her meal. When she returned, the anger in her sister's eyes had faded significantly and Squirrelflight gazed at her dazedly. The aura around the redhead seemed to scream defeat.  _Not yet_ , Leafpool thought.

She walked over to her mother and pressed a kiss to the older woman's cheek. Sandstorm looked up, startled, and even Firestar tore his eyes away from his plate to see what was happening. "Good morning, mother," Leafpool greeted, a broad smile crossing her face. From the corner of her eye, she saw Squirrelflight and Graystripe glance at each other before calling out their own greeting. Sandstorm looked stunned for a few seconds, but her face quickly split into a tender smile as she gazed at her friend and her two daughters.

Now that she was standing close by, Leafpool felt her heart seize up as she took in her mother's appearance. Sandstorm's cheekbones were sunken in and her eyes seemed glassy. Although the aristocrat continued to hold herself proudly, there was an aura of exhaustion floating around her. There were heavy bags resting underneath the green-eyed woman's eyes and her magnificent auburn hair seemed dull and dry. Feeling guilty for not noticing earlier, Leafpool leaned into her mother, resting her cheek gently against her mother's temple.

"What are you thinking of doing today?" Sandstorm asked, pressing a kiss to her daughter's jaw.

"Mmmm…it's been a while since I've taken a break from my studies," Leafpool mused. "I think I'll work on my art for a little bit." A smile touched the corner of her lips when she saw Squirrelflight's face brighten up. "Thirteen year olds need to have some freedom and relaxation in their lives."

"Of course," Sandstorm snorted, her eyes twinkling with a familiar green spark. "I didn't raise you to be a hermit!" Leafpool laughed and hesitantly threw a glance in her father's direction. Her heart plummeted when she saw the lost, confused expression on his face as he gazed at his wife. He blinked rapidly a few times before leaving the dining room without drawing any attention to himself. However, Leafpool felt the subtle tilt of her mother's head as the auburn-haired woman watched her husband exit the room.

 

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

After arriving at the Zephyra manor for a visit, he was quickly greeted by a somber-eyed Brambleclaw, who quickly filled him in on the situation at hand. Supposedly, there was some sort of conflict between the head of the Zephyra house and his wife and their two daughters were sandwiched right in the middle. "It turns out that Graystripe strictly forbid Stormfur and Feathertail from coming over," Brambleclaw told him as the two of them walked into the manor house. "I guess he didn't want to get them involved."

_And he didn't bother to keep us out of it as well?_  Crowfeather raised an eyebrow at Brambleclaw's words, but choice not to voice his thoughts. The Herobexy aristocrat was most likely here for moral support, and Crowfeather couldn't think of a good enough reason to why he shouldn't be supporting Squirrelflight in a time of difficulty.  _I've seen my parents fight for months,_  he thought bitterly.  _I can easily guess how Squirrelflight and Leafpool are holding up. At least they have each other_ , he thought begrudgingly. Being an only child, he only could depend on himself to stay strong.

_Speaking of which, it's been forever since I've seen Leafpool._ During his visits in the past five years, he had rarely caught sight of the brunette. On the rare occasions that he did see her, she was always busy with something—talking to a golden-haired girl, lounging around in the library, or grabbing a snack from the kitchen. According to her sister, Leafpool had submerged herself in research and studying in pursuit of her dream to become a doctor. In addition to grueling hours with a mathematics tutor, literature tutor, foreign language tutor, history tutor, and Cinderpelt's science courses, she had to conduct experiments on her own and catalog the results of every dissection she made in copious amounts of detail.

_If anything, it sounds as she's just trying to overwork herself._  Squirrelflight had admitted that if she were subjected to the same, rigorous course, she would've broken down and run for her life. " _If I had even a fraction of Leafpool's persistence_ ," the redhead had mumbled enviously. " _Maybe I'd be a much better student._ " Despite the fact that Leafpool was really dedicated to her dreams of becoming a doctor, Crowfeather couldn't help but feel as if Leafpool was purposely avoiding him. A small piece of him was silently unnerved by her absence.

Everything seemed to be falling down all around him. Squirrelflight was struggling with her family, Leafpool was drowning herself in her studies, Feathertail was beginning to receive marriage proposals, and Tallstar's body grew frailer and frailer with each day.  _Growing up was supposed to make everything better_ , Crowfeather thought irritably as he stepped into the main hallway.  _Glad to know it's doing the exact opposite. Any more of this and I swear I'll end up bald by the end of the day._

Crowfeather flinched when something brushed up against him and he looked up to see Leafpool climbing up the staircase.  _She's probably going to drown herself in her studies again. I shouldn't bother—_  "Hey, Leafpool!" — _shut up, stupid mouth. Ignore me, Leafpool. Pretend that you didn't hear me._  Deep inside, however, he knew that she was too well-mannered not to answer. When Leafpool turned her amber gaze onto him warily, he felt as if he were submerged in a pit of golden lava, the air around him clinging to him like molasses.

"Yes?" She inquired softly. As the two of them continued to stare at each other, the tension between them grew until it was almost unbearable. Just as the brunette turned her head away, Crowfeather found his voice.

"Did you finish the wood carving?" Leafpool blinked at him in surprise before giving him a cautious nod. "Can I see it?" Uncertainty crossed her face, but she gave him another small nod before gesturing to the stairs. Crowfeather followed her eyes before climbing up after her, his mind scrambling to comprehend the situation at hand. He hadn't spoken to her in five years, and suddenly the first thing he asks about is the art piece that he screwed up?  _I always think of the best things to say, don't I?_  He asked himself irritably.  _That earned me a death threat from her five years ago. Why don't I something else and actually have Squirrelflight act on her warning?_  The silence was unnerving, but he had a feeling that if he spoke first, it would be a long time before Leafpool would ever speak to him again.

"How have you been these last few years?" Crowfeather's head shot up in surprise at Leafpool's hesitant question. She glanced at him shyly, her amber eyes passing on her silent plea for friendship. The blue-eyed boy gazed at her thoughtfully, suddenly noticing the physical differences between the Leafpool he saw before him and the Leafpool he knew five years ago. She had lost a majority of her baby-fat and her honey brown hair spilled across her shoulders like molten copper.  _Five years can change a person_ , he thought, taking in her shy smile with one of his own.

"I've been doing fairly well," he replied amicably. A warmth spread through his chest at the delighted gleam in her amber eyes at his response. "I've been learning from Tallstar about politics and I've had to attend quite a few boring social gatherings, but I seem to be a little more agreeable than my father on terms of socializing." Leafpool chuckled and a genuine smile crossed his face. "And you?"

"I've been studying hard," the brunette replied easily, but the haunted look in her eyes informed Crowfeather that she was aware of her family's compromising situation. "I think I'm a bit early in the career planning area, but I know that I want to be a doctor when I'm older." A smile settled on her lips. "Cinderpelt's been giving me a head start with her lessons." Crowfeather blinked when she stopped in front of a door and gently pushed it open. They were already at her room? Leafpool stepped aside and Crowfeather entered the room first, staring in awe at the drawings that decorated the walls. There were sketches of him and his friends at the river, pictures of the servants of the manor, and portraits of Leafpool's family pinned against the wood. Drawings of wildflowers fill the spaces in between and there was a beautiful landscape painted the wall connected to her door.

He turned back to Leafpool, who had been watching him curiously. She flushed when he caught her staring, but didn't turn her face away.  _The old Leafpool most likely would have_ , Crowfeather thought. She certainly had come a long way. "It's over here," she said softly, lifting the carving from a stand on her bureau. He ran his fingers over it as she passed it over to him and he reveled at how slick the surface was. Crowfeather was no expert in art, but he knew a well-polished piece when he saw one. After all, his mother always lectured new maids whenever they didn't polish her furniture well.

Two figures sat side by side on a fallen tree trunk, both presenting their backs to Crowfeather. The cat and the crow had their heads inclined to one another, as if discussing something of relative importance. To his amazement, his roughly carved leaf mixed into the piece perfectly, almost bringing a sense of reality in what would've been a picture-perfect fantasy. Leafpool was truly a master artist to be able to integrate his carving so well into the rest of her piece.

"I have to thank you again for the leaf." Crowfeather glanced at Leafpool, who gave him a small smile. "I wasn't sure what I was going to put in place of the jagged line."

"I'm just amazed that it works with the rest of the piece," he replied dazedly. "You really are a professional artist."

"Hardly," Leafpool snorted, crossing her arms. It seemed almost surrealistic to Crowfeather at how relaxed she was. "It was lucky that our work complimented each other. All I did was finish the rest of the piece and everything fitted together in the end."

"It's amazing," Crowfeather informed her, running his fingers over the wood again. Her cheeks reddened slightly at the praise and she looked down at her interlaced hands. He brought his eyes to the rest of the room, taking in the detailed sketches of his friends. Although they were drawn as realistically as possible, there was still a stylized layer to Leafpool's portraits.  _An idealism of sorts_ , he thought. " _You're_  amazing." He glanced at Leafpool and saw her face flush in embarrassment and shyness. "Is this everything you've ever worked on?"

"No, I have other sketchbooks," she admitted. "I just took out some of my favorite pieces and pinned them up."

"Can I see the others?" Crowfeather thought he saw a flash of fear and uncertainty that flickered through Leafpool's eyes, but it disappeared just as quickly as it came. Either way, her body language told him that she was extremely uncomfortable with sharing her sketchbooks with him. He frowned, suddenly unnerved by the idea that Leafpool needed to hide her drawings. It didn't seem like the brunette to harbor secrets, especially ones that seemed to make her  _this_  uncomfortable. But Crowfeather quickly recognized that he was making her extremely nervous and he opened his mouth to reassure her. "It's alright if you don't want to—"

"No, no, it's fine," Leafpool cut him off quickly, walking over to a small section of her bookshelf. "I was just…surprised." She began to reach for one, but pulled back just before she touched its spine. "The ones near the bottom are my older sketches and the ones closer to the top are more my more recently finished books." She gestured toward them and stepped back. "Feel free to look at any one of them.

_You were obviously reaching for one toward the top…_ The thought that she would attempt to pick out a sketchbook for him to see and then give him permission to choose his own only increased Crowfeather's suspicions. She was _definitely_  hiding something…and it had something to do with those sketchbooks. Either way, he plucked a book from the lower shelves and began to flip through it. There were roughly drawn figures and multiple portraits of Squirrelflight making crazy expressions. Suddenly, Leafpool's nervous movements made a little more sense.  _She probably wanted to save her sister's reputation_ , he thought, _and her own._ The sketches before him were beautiful, but weren't nearly as aesthetically pleasing as the pieces posted on her walls. After finishing the book, he slipped it back in its place before taking another from a higher shelf. This time, he noticed Leafpool stiffen slightly.

Choosing to ignore her, Crowfeather flipped to the first page and was met with a beautiful sight. It was a drawing of Feathertail dozing in the parlor, cushioned by pillows and leaning against a window. He could almost picture her sitting before him as his eyes independently filled the colors into the piece. It was breathtaking. Flipping through the next few pages, he saw stunning sketches of Tawnypelt and Cinderpelt, flipping through a cookbook and rummaging through the library, respectively. He was a little hurt when he didn't see any sketches of himself, but quickly brushed off the thought. Why would Leafpool go out of her way to draw him? For all he knew, the two of them were not on good terms—or at least not on friendly ones.

To his surprise, however, the entire last quarter of the sketchbook was filled with his face. Various expressions—indifference, annoyance, anger, exasperation, amusement—everything was recorded on the pages of Leafpool's sketchbook. As he examined his pages more carefully, he felt warmth spread through his chest. In Leafpool's eyes, he was beautiful and mysterious. It warmed his heart to know that she thought so highly of him—or at least, that was what he could gather from the attentiveness of the sketches.

A part of him argued that he should feel slightly unnerved by how detailed and accurate the drawings were, but he quickly pushed that small voice aside. These pieces were too beautiful to be seen as antagonistic. When he reached the last page of the sketchbook, he felt fulfilled and cared for. Closing it gently, he looked over at Leafpool. The brunette had averted her eyes and wrung her hands nervously as he examined her drawings. She probably thought that he was angry at her for drawing him and the others. "Thank you," he whispered. Her head shot up in surprise and she stared at him for a few moments before tearing her eyes away.

"I'm sorry for drawing all of you without asking first," she blurted out, her cheeks turning crimson. Crowfeather furrowed his eyebrows at her words—why did she feel obligated to apologize for something so beautiful? "You all were great models and I just…"

"Don't apologize, Leafpool." Her eyes flickered back to his in uncertainty. He gave her a half-hearted smirk as he gently returned the sketchbook to its spot. "I've always seen you as someone who didn't really care too much about the others and I—which is completely understandable since you probably don't see us as friends—and someone who just tagged along for the heck of it, but…" he trailed off, realizing just how rude he was being to the girl who drew him as if he were a deity. "What I want to say is thank you. You make us all look so…beautiful."

Leafpool gazed at him with an unreadable emotion on her face. "It's not hard to draw people who  _are_  beautiful," she murmured softly. Crowfeather started at her words and she turned her face away from him. "Feel free to look through the others," she said calmly. "I have to talk to Cinderpelt for a little bit." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "If it's not too much trouble," she mumbled, "please close the door when you're done." With that, she slipped out of the room, leaving a speechless Crowfeather to stare after her.

 

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

Leafpool's cheeks blazed as she walked briskly away from her room and climbed the stairs to reach the third floor of the manor house.  _I can't believe I said that to him_ , she wailed inwardly.  _I made myself sound like a freak._ Despite her thoughts, Leafpool felt herself slowing down and she couldn't resist glancing behind her. The way that Crowfeather had looked at her after he was finished with her sketchbook…

Immediately, Leafpool's skin prickled and burned, as if there were thousands of fire ants marching all over her body. Shivering, she quickly made her way to Cinderpelt's door. A small, bitter part of herself had laughed and shook its head when it saw how long Crowfeather had lingered on the first page of her sketchbook.  _Of course he stared at Feathertail_ , it had scorned, crossing its arms.  _He's obsessed with her._ When he looked through the other pages, Leafpool had felt increasingly uncomfortable as he got close to the sketches she had drawn of him.  _And who knew he would pick the sketchbook with the most drawings of him?_

She had planned on picking a book to show him herself, but she quickly found herself trapped in a predicament. Her sketches toward the bottom of the shelf were amateur and crude to her own eyes and the sketchbooks at the top held copious sketches of Crowfeather's face. Toward the middle, there was more of a balance, but they contained mainly sketches of wildlife and plants. There was no "right" book to show Crowfeather without embarrassing herself in the process.

Leafpool stared at Cinderpelt's door before leaning against it in defeat. Why was she even here? She had lied about needing to talk to her mentor—she just had to get out of her room after her embarrassing confession. It would've been too rude and suspicious if she had thrown Crowfeather out and it would've been awkward if the two of them continued to stand there and stare at each other. If she walked out, she needed an excuse or else their next meeting would be even more uncomfortable. Squirrelflight had popped up in her head first, but seeing as how the redhead had a knack for getting tangled in other people's relationships and conflicts, she would undoubtedly get curious and bother Leafpool to no end about it.

_Did I just call it a relationship?_ Heat rushed to her face and she brought her weight down even more on Cinderpelt's door. Calling it a relationship implied that they were romantically involved…although relationships referred to a lot more than romance. Either way, the thought of being with Crowfeather in that way…the pit of her stomach burned uncomfortably.

Cinderpelt was the first  _safe_  person that popped up in her head. The gray-haired woman and Crowfeather were practically strangers, so she could depend on the fact that he wouldn't go out of his way to seek out her mentor. But now that she was here, in front of Cinderpelt's room, she wasn't sure when Crowfeather would actually leave hers. She could've stared down the railing and waited until he started descending the staircase, but there was a large chance that he would've noticed her and that would only make her feel even more uncomfortable.  _And I can't just walk downstairs and see him there_ , she thought in frustration.  _What would I say? "Oh hey, Crowfeather, turns out Cinderpelt wasn't in her room and…"_

What were the chances of Cinderpelt  _not_  being in her room? Or the chances that Crowfeather would see her when he passed the library? Leafpool fell into a crouch, holding her head in her hands as she let out a helpless whimper. She was overreacting. Most definitely overreacting.  _Get a hold of yourself, Leafpool_ , she growled angrily,  _toughen up. Get your act together. Think of a stupid question to ask Cinderpelt but not too stupid because then she'll think something is wrong. Ask her about upcoming dissections. Ask her about medicine._  Steeling herself, Leafpool stood and let out a puff of air.  _Here goes nothing_ , she thought, rapping on Cinderpelt's door.

She waited a few moments before trying again, this time calling out a hesitant, "Cinderpelt?" Pressing her ear to the door, Leafpool frowned when she couldn't hear any snoring or signs of sleep.  _Oh for Starreign's sake—_

It seemed like today was one of those rare days when Cinderpelt  _wasn't_  in her room.


	5. Story Guide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of notes including house names, pronunciations of those house names, age guides, and general background information. Shippings are included including explanations regarding house tags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who kudo-ed this story!

THE HOUSES: Pronunciation

Shadowrim – Shaa-DOH-rim

Riverside – Riv-ER-side

Gustil – Goost-ill

Herobexy – Hair-AWW-becks-ee

Yestermorn – Yes-TUR-mourn

Necrasung – Neck-RA-sung

Ebenwing – EHH-ben-wing

Zecrorise – Zeck-O-rise

Larixmin – Lair-X-min

Wilstera – Will-stare-a

Terrum – Tear-em

Zephyra – ZE-fer-uh

RELIGIOUS BASE: Similar to Starclan, now renamed Starreign. Medical doctors are usually somewhere located within a partially detached branch of Starreign. Those whose jobs are more similar to therapists or psychologists actually do communicate with the spirits of those who had passed. Note: Littlecloud, Cinderpelt, and Leafpool (eventually) are in the special group of medical doctors who are also therapists. Other doctors, such as Barkface, occasionally receive signs but rarely get it directly through their dreams. It is possible for someone to be a doctor without being associated with Starreign.

A.R. = After Rise. The Empire was formed at the beginning when humans first began to socialize and advance from a much more primitive state. The earth underneath the Empire formed a bond with it and is only responsive to the third king. The Empire is considered to be a sacred state within the world of Zendiria (Zen-deer-ee-uh) and is respected by the other empires that live on the same planet.

The First, the Second, the Third. = This refers to the positions of each leader of the Empire. The First is known as the domestic leader, the Second as the international, and the Third as the Gaian, or the earth connecter. This does not refer to usual human traditions with naming monarchs (King Henry V, VII, VIII, etc.).

NOTE: The houses have up to five loosely related aristocratic families. Stormfur and Feathertail belong to the house of Riverside (their mother's house) rather than Graystripe's (Herobexy). Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, who are both orphans, live with the house of Herobexy as Brambleclaw is a heritage aristocrat and his father was once of Herobexy. Crowfeather lives with Ashfoot and Deadfoot in the house of Ebenwing. Leafpool and Squirrelflight are members of the house of Zephyra.

Note: Firestar's family is the only current aristocratic family within the house of Zephyra. Whenever a heritage house loses all of it's heritage blood, it loses its name and a new house arises and will accept other heritage blood families regardless of whether they were related to the founder or not.

NOTE: These are all the pairings shipped in this story. If you do not accept any of these pairings, I  _strongly_  discourage you from continuing reading this story. The shippings in this fanfiction are (in order of importance):  **Leafpool x Crowfeather** ,  **Crossover Character/OC x OC** ,  **Cinderpelt x OC** ,  **Stormfur x Brook** ,  **Squirrelflight x Brambleclaw** ,  **Sandstorm x Firestar** , various  **OC x OC** , and mentions of:  **Feathertail x Crowfeather** ,  **Firestar x Spottedleaf** , **Graystripe x Silverstream** ,  **Feathertail x OC** ,  **Leafpool x OC** ,  **Jayfeather x Half Moon** ,  **Lionblaze x Cinderheart** , and  **Hollyleaf x Fallen Leaves**. OC names are currently being disclosed, but they may be mentioned in a later guide. **  
**

AGES WHEN SQUIRRELFLIGHT AND LEAFPOOL ARE 13:

Firestar – 33

Sandstorm – 34

Graystripe – 34

Feathertail – 17

Stormfur – 17

Tawnypelt – 15

Brambleclaw – 15

Crowfeather – 14

Cinderpelt – 27


	6. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Leafpool is cornered by her sister to entertain Crowfeather during his stay, Leafpool is convinced that her life couldn't get worse. The problem is, she didn't count on her parents to be her next source of tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left a kudo!

Third Person – Leafpool

As the week progressed, Crowfeather's parents left to attend a local council meeting and the blue-eyed aristocrat's stay at the Zephyra manor was prolonged for a few days. Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, however, were ordered home by Graystripe, who insisted that their studies were at risk of being forgotten. As if to act as a replacement, Dustpelt stopped by and informed the head of Zephyra that he would be staying for a few days. In the meantime, Leafpool caught herself staring at Crowfeather all too many times at the dining table and, unknowingly, was observed by the blue-eyed aristocrat himself.

After reorganizing her schedule to make more room for her family in a last-minute attempt to piece it back together, Leafpool found herself unintentionally spending more time with Crowfeather. Since he was the only visitor to stay behind, he had very little to do while Squirrelflight and Leafpool tended to their everyday activities. Eventually, at one point, the redhead had cornered her sister and pleaded her to make room for Crowfeather when she herself was busy. Squirrelflight, who decided to move her training to the end of the day so she could entertain Crowfeather in the morning, insisted that Leafpool act as company for Crowfeather during her absence. Pressured with being a good host, the brunette accepted.

The first evening they spent together was awkward and tense. Leafpool had tried to catch his interest with different card and board games while he tried to prod her for details on her art. The second night was even worse—the two of them held staring contests for no good reason and even resorted to staring at the ceiling and trying to make shapes out of the wood grain. The third evening, however, was different. Leafpool had brought out her sketchbook—a feat that immediately perked Crowfeather's interest—and told him to act as natural as possible. Of course, after half an hour of contorted and superficial expressions, Leafpool pushed a dramatic romance novel onto him and proceeded to draw his reactions to the text. Needless to say, at the end of the book, the brunette had quite a few amusing pictures added to her collection.

It was safe to say that the days that followed were much more relaxed. There were times where Leafpool would talk about her art and her studies and others where Crowfeather tried to explain politics to her. He had a whole laundry list of complaints—mainly about the house council the twelve heads made—and how very little was being changed  _because_  the heads feared change. He explained that the twelve houses were a form of local government in the Empire and though they were not elected by the peasants, they were monitored by the advisory boards of Larkwing the First. But like many systems, the board and their surveys were flawed, so there were times where house leaders could grow corrupt or become a puppet for their dying house.

"It's causing a big problem in our house right now," Crowfeather had admitted to her. "Tallstar's become much more lenient, my father has yet to exercise the power he's inheriting, and the inherited aristocrats are growing more and more agitated. He shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a wary expression in his eyes. "If there's anything that politics has taught me," he said slowly, "it's that people are scared of losing power. So scared, that they lose all moral obligations."

Leafpool was stunned by how not only her house—but the house of Ebenwing—was falling to pieces. Although she had heard that her father was a revolutionary leader in the house councils, she knew very little of what he actually did in an attempt to change the system. Later that night, she realized just how much Crowfeather must've trusted her in order to tell her about his crumbling house. For the first time, she recognized just how trusting he was and how little it took for him to open a part of his heart to her. To her embarrassment, however, there was very little she could say to return the favor.

Suddenly it felt as if she was staring at Crowfeather's back again after so many years of chasing after her dream of becoming a doctor. When she believed that she was a step ahead in her life, she still found herself staring at his back. She had come so far with her studies in medicine and botany, but here he was, studying hard to become the next head of Ebenwing. In her eyes, he had accomplished much more than she had over the course of her entire life. Leafpool learned that while Crowfeather was brash and rude, he was painfully honest as well. He always chose to tell the truth, no matter how difficult and scandalous it would be. And to her utter delight, she found herself respecting him and growing to be respected in the process.

Despite the dire circumstances, she couldn't help but feel thankful that she was able to find a friend in Crowfeather while everyone else turned their backs and left.

* * *

Third Person – Sandstorm

Dazed green eyes stared out the window as their owners tried to lose herself in a daydream. Life had become painfully difficult for the past few weeks as Firestar became moody, irritable, and seeking refuge in not only the far side of their bed, but in alcohol. At night, he began talking in his sleep, frequently murmuring the name "Spottedleaf" and alternating between the words "please don't go" and "I miss you". Although Sandstorm was convinced that her heart was too numb to hurt any more, she always found herself crying in her study in the middle of the night. As if to add onto her heavy heart, Firestar often glared at her in the early morning, as if accusing her to leave their bed for no reason.

For the first time in her life, Sandstorm felt broken. She remembered the bitter sting of chasing an unrequited love, but that was before she realized that Firestar truly cared for her. Now, the love of her life turned against her and her two daughters were now stuck in the middle of the conflict. When she had broken down crying in Graystripe's arms, Firestar had lashed out in drunken fury, slurring that his friend was a cheater and his wife was nothing more than a common whore. Needless to say, it was understandable why the gray-haired aristocrat had reeled back in the morning and struck his best friend when the redhead failed to remember the tears he had caused the night before.

It would be too cruel to depend on Graystripe in these times. Quickly realizing this, Sandstorm did whatever she could to distance herself from him, murmuring quick nothings about how she was fine and everything was alright. Internally, she felt her walls shattering and her beloved world crumbling underneath her feet. There was no one to turn to. She couldn't endanger her daughters by bringing them into the fray. She couldn't depend on Ashfoot because she was nothing more than a close acquaintance. She couldn't risk having Dustpelt find out, because if he were to ever get wind of what was happening, all hell would break loose. Although she took comfort in her best friend's protective qualities, she couldn't bear to rest on his shoulders while he suffered the loss of his children.

Her mask was cracking and Squirrelflight increased avoidance of her father was proof of that. The younger redhead did whatever she could to ignore Firestar and in turn, she tried to pour as much affection as possible onto Sandstorm. Leafpool, who was all but drowning herself in her research for the past few months, had magically surfaced and hovered over her mother like a doting hen. To Sandstorm's utter embarrassment and annoyance, the familial roles had been switched and suddenly she became the helpless child in need of protection.

Sandstorm let out a ragged breath as she ran her hand through her hair agitatedly. She never expected this to happen. She and Firestar had been married happily for over fourteen years. Although she knew of his love for Spottedleaf, she thought that after over a decade of marriage and bonding, he would see her as his lifelong partner. She thought that the feelings he felt for the deceased aristocrat would fade and eventually be directed to his family. She thought that after all these years she would finally be given the entirety of Firestar's love and affection. But there was no light for her at the end of the tunnel. Instead of handing over the last piece of his heart, he hid it, cloaking it under fake smiles and innocent excuses.

Her worst nightmare—ones that woke her in the middle of the night and drove Firestar insane as he failed to comfort her—was finally coming true. Now she saw that she couldn't wait on him anymore. She knew he loved her dearly, but it still wasn't enough. The fact that he still loved a woman who he knew for less than three months unnerved her. It was a truth that she just couldn't stomach.  _Starreign, I have tried and tried and_ tried _,_ she thought dully as she leaned back into her chair.  _I've waited, I've cried, I've stood at his door with my heart in my hands—what else can I give?_  She closed her eyes as a fresh wave of tears washed over her eyes.  _How much longer can I wait?_

The air around Sandstorm was suddenly filled with the scent of alcohol and a heavy arm wrapped around her shoulders. Steeling herself against the urge to recoil, she turned to see Firestar towering over her with a glassy look in his eyes. In his free hand, he swirled a bottle of wine. "Firestar?" she whispered.

"There y'are, Spottedleaf," he slurred happily, giving her a lopsided smile. Had he given her the same grin on any other occasion, her heart would've melted. But just the mention of that woman's name drove an icy spear through Sandstorm's heart and she felt hollow and numb. Empty. "I missed you," he breathed, pressing his lips to her head. The auburn-haired woman felt herself shake at his touch.  _Do not break, do not break, do not break…_ "So many years, Spottedleaf. So many years…"  _Don't look at me with those eyes; don't look at me with those eyes…_  He gazed at her forlornly before his face split into a blinding grin. "But now we're together again." He frowned suddenly, twirling a lock of her hair between his fingers. "Did y'dye yer hair? Y'know I love y'r natrooal color."

"Firestar, I'm not—" The look in his eyes changed and he recoiled violently, ripping his arm away from her.

"Wha'the hell y'doin', Sandstorm?" He rumbled angrily, his green eyes squinting at her. "Y're not Spottedleaf." He scowled at her. "G'outta here." She felt the last strand of resistance within her snap and she snarled at her husband, effectively shutting him up.

"You're right, Firestar. I'm  _not_ Spottedleaf." She rose from her chair and took a menacing step toward him. "And thank Starreign I'm n—" Her next words were quickly cut off with an irritated, obnoxious sigh.

"Well why aren'tcha like her at the least?" He sneered back, his words dripping with malice. "She was sooo kind…n' gentle…n' so forgivin'. Y're loud, bossy…" he glared at her distastefully. "And a  _pain_." With his every word, Sandstorm felt another fine crack skitter across the surface of her heart. Behind each fissure, a wave of resentment, anger, and betrayal rose. "Wished sh'didn' die. Wish y'did inste—" He broke off as Sandstorm's fist connected with his face. He stumbled to the ground, smashing the bottle in his hand and scrambling to put his free hand on where she hit him. He blinked blearily at her, flexing his jaw wearily. "I—what? Sandstorm? What's going on here?" _That's just like you, Firestar_ , she thought bitterly.  _Always knowing what to say. Always sobering up just as the damage is done._  She glared down at him.  _Well not today._

"Sandstorm?" Confusion, laced with pain, crossed his face. A hard look settled in his eyes. "Why did you hit me?"

"It's always about you, isn't it?" She whispered darkly at him. "What did  _I_  do to little-ol'- _you_. It's never 'what did I say' or 'what did I do'. No, it's always 'what did  _you_  say' and 'what did  _you_  do'." Staring down at her husband, she realized that she'd never been so humiliated in her life. "I'm  _sick_  of playing your Spottedleaf and I am  _sick_ for always being second best. You broke me far too many times, Firestar,  _and I am done._ "

"Broke?" he spluttered. "Playing 'my' Spottedleaf?" He gazed helplessly at her. "When were you ever second best?" If it was even possible, her heart broke for a second time.

"Always. I was  _always_  and  _still am_  second best." A fresh wave of tears trailed down her cheeks. "It was always her. It was always her."

"No, it was always you," Firestar protested, trying to sit up. "Sandstorm, please."

"I'm leaving, Firestar." Her voice quavered and she cursed herself inwardly at the hope in his eyes. "I'm done." Walking briskly past him, she ignored his protests and shut the door to her study. Grabbing a chair from the side, she barred the door and kicked it once, for good measure. "Good _bye_." She raced into her closet, stuffing whatever clothes she could grab into a bag before slamming the door to the master bedroom behind her.

"Mama!" Squirrelflight stood at the bottom of the staircase, flanked by Crowfeather and Leafpool. Concern was etched across all three faces as they stared back at Sandstorm. "What happened?" Her voice grew more urgent. "Why are you  _crying_?"

"I'm leaving," she announced as steadily as she could. "I'm leaving and I'm not coming back." Her voice broke off into a sob as she marched past her daughters and called for a carriage.

* * *

Third Person - Squirrelflight

Squirrelflight glanced at Leafpool and Crowfeather before rushing after her mother. "Squirrelflight!" She heard her sister cry out in shock as she pushed through the manor doors. Outside, her mother paced while the stablemen tried to set up the carriage as soon as possible. The maids, who had been sweeping the front of the manor, whispered worriedly to each other as they stared at their crying mistress.

"Mama." Squirrelflight raced to her mother's side and took the older woman's hands. "I'm going with you." A conflicted look crossed Sandstorm's face and she opened her mouth to protest.

"Squirrelfli—"

"Please, mama. Do this for me." Sandstorm blinked at her daughter blankly, as if suddenly seeing who was standing before her.

"Where did I go wrong?" The auburn-haired aristocrat whispered as she gazed at her daughter. Squirrelflight furrowed her eyebrows, but her mother kept talking. "When did I stop looking at you?" Tears filled her green eyes again. "How did you grow up without me noticing?"

"Mama." Squirrelflight took her mother's face in her hands and rested their foreheads together. "I want you to get into the carriage and wait for me, okay? I'll be out in a minute—I just need to talk to Leafpool for a second. When we're in the carriage, we'll talk, okay? Calm down; I'll be there in a minute." She beckoned the chirping maids over and they hurriedly helped their mistress into the car. Squirrelflight gave her mother one last reassuring look before rushing back to the manor.

"Remember what I told you, Leafa," the redhead whispered as her sister met her by the door. "Make sure papa gets all straightened out. If worst comes to worst, you pack up your things—whatever you can carry on a short notice—and come to us. If Graystripe or Dustpelt asks, tell them where we are. Otherwise,  _don't say a word to anyone_."

"Got it," Leafpool breathed, urgently pressing their foreheads together. The two of them stayed like that for a few seconds, eyes closed as they tried to memorize each other's presence. Leafpool's amber eyes opened after what felt like eternity and met Squirrelflight's green gaze. "Take care of her, Squirrelflight." Her voice shook slightly as she spoke. "And take care of yourself."

"We'll do the best we can." Fear flashed through the redhead's eyes. "In the meantime—stall!" She pulled away from her sister, all but leaping into the carriage and yelling at the groom to start the carriage. Squirrelflight squeezed her mother's hands and shifted until she was comfortable.

"What are you going to do for clothes?" Sandstorm asked dazedly.

"I'm sure Tawnypelt wouldn't mind sharing," the redhead replied impatiently.

A wave of guilt washed over Sandstorm's eyes. "I'm a horrible mother," she croaked.

At her mother's words, Squirrelflight felt something inside of her break. "No, mama," she whispered, wrapping her arms around the shaking woman. "You're perfect."

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

 _Starreign protect them_ , Leafpool thought helplessly as she watched the carriage roll away. The air filled with the sound of footsteps and she turned to see Dustpelt and Graystripe rushing over to meet her. "What happened?" The gray-haired aristocrat demanded.

"Mother and Squirrelflight left for Herobexy."

" _Why?_ " Dustpelt looked back and forth between Leafpool's somber eyes and the stricken expression on Graystripe's face. "Why would they ever go—" The man broke off abruptly, a dark gleam in his eye. "That son of a bitch."

"Language!" Graystripe hissed, snapping out of his stupor.

"Like that's a priority right now," Dustpelt snorted. "Where is he?" His amber eyes raked over Leafpool and Graystripe, who glanced questioningly at one another. Letting out a frustrated cry, the aristocrat stalked back into the manor, where Crowfeather shot Leafpool a confused look. When Firestar didn't appear, Dustpelt turned his temper onto the servants. " _Where is he?_ " he roared, sending a few maids scrambling for where to hide.

" _You watch your mouth!_ " Leafpool snapped, leaping in front of him. Her blood boiled at the mistreatment of the people who practically raised her. The male aristocrat turned his molten eyes on her and for several long moments, amber burned into amber. In the silence, she felt her anger starting to subside. "Nobody will tell you anything if you yell at them," she told him coldly. "Our staff is loyal, dedicated, and defensive. If you want to know  _anything_ , the last thing you should do is turn your anger onto  _them_." The staring contest continued for a few more minutes as Dustpelt refused to lower the intensity of his gaze.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a door being slammed open and Firestar rushed out on the railing, looking around frantically. "Where is she?" he demanded, staring down at the group of aristocrats. "Where did Sandstorm go?" Leafpool saw something snap inside of Dustpelt at the woman's name and he flew up the flight of stairs, ignoring Graystripe's alarmed cry.

"You son of a bitch!" The brown-haired aristocrat fisted his hands in Firestar's shirt. "I can't believe you. All this time, I thought you were a good guy." His amber eyes flashed angrily as he brought his face close to the redhead's. "I gave her to you  _and you broke her_." Leafpool heard Graystripe's breath catch in his throat before the gray-haired aristocrat raced up the stairs. Firestar stared blankly at Dustpelt, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, Dustpelt reeled back and punched him.

"Dustpelt!" Graystripe's voice rose above the maids' screams as he grabbed the brunet around the waist and tried to tug him away from Firestar. Although the gray-haired aristocrat was much bulkier than the brunet, he had a difficult time separating him from the redhead. "A little help here?" he cried out, trying to stop Dustpelt from thrashing. Immediately, three butlers flew to his side, helping him pull the two tussling men apart. When they were finally separated, Firestar had a split lip and the beginnings of a black eye. Dustpelt, on the other hand, had a magnificent bruise forming on his cheek.

It was in these moments that Leafpool hated herself the most. She could never actually raise her hand against anyone. Instead, she stood there and stared as Graystripe dragged Dustpelt down the stairs. He paused by her and gave her a tight smile. "I'm taking this guy home. It'll do him some good," he grumbled, shooting the battered brunet a half-hearted glare. He glanced at Crowfeather, who had somehow sidled up next to Leafpool during the frenzy. She gazed dazedly at him—how did he get so close to her without startling her? Either way, his warmth was comforting and she wanted nothing more than to sink into him. At this point, any warm body would do for comfort. "Do you want a ride home? I might as well drop you off at Ebenwing."

"I'll stay here, if that's fine with you," Crowfeather replied, earning a shocked look from Leafpool. "My parents will expect me to be here and I don't mind staying for a while longer."

"Are you sure? It won't be too much trouble to bring you back."  _And away from all this madness_ , Leafpool finished Graystripe's words dully.

"No, I'm sure. Thank you for the offer." The gray-haired aristocrat eyed him warily, but nodded before dragging Dustpelt behind him. Once two of them were out of sight, Leafpool raced over to where her father was, dazed and bloodied. There were two butlers hovering over him, but neither seemed sure of what to do.

"Can you find Cinderpelt?" She called out to no one in particular as he knelt above her father. She took his face gingerly in her hands, turning it from side to side to survey the damage.

"Leafpool?" He slurred uncertainly, blinking at her with bleary eyes.

"It's me," she reassured him. "Can someone bring me some cotton balls and some alcohol?" She hesitated before asking, "Some ice would be nice too." Wordlessly, the servants of her manor handed her the items she requested and she began to tend to her father's wounds, dabbing at his cuts.

"Young mistress…" She looked up to see one of the head butlers standing by her father's head. "We are low on wine. Should we place an order for more?"  _Oh_ , she thought blankly as she stared up at the elder man.  _If we don't have wine, then father wouldn't be able to get drunk in his own home. But at the same time…what will we do for guests?_

"Request a few bottles but ask your provider to store it for you in the meantime." Crowfeather's voice cut through her haze and he headed down the staircase, Cinderpelt limping as fast as she could after him. He glanced at Leafpool and nodded. "That'll keep Firestar from getting more alcohol into his system and make sure that you're stocked for guests." When the head butler glanced in Leafpool's direction for confirmation, she nodded dazedly, deciding that at this point in time, Crowfeather knew what was best. Cinderpelt pushed past the blue-eyed aristocrat and knelt down by Firestar's head.

"Great Starreign," she murmured disapprovingly. "What have you done to yourself, Firestar?" The redhead, who had dozed under the gentle ministrations of his daughter and the soothing coldness of the ice on his rapidly-swelling eye, moaned softly at her words. The gray-haired woman shook her head sadly and gave Leafpool a small smile. "I'll take care of your father from here," she informed her. "Get some rest, Leafpool. Ask the chef for some milk with honey."

Leafpool gave her mentor a bitter smile. "I think all of us need some milk with honey," she replied, brushing off her knees. "I'll send some up for you in a bit." Cinderpelt chuckled and motioned for two butlers to help her carry Firestar into his bedroom. Leafpool watched the three of them carry him up the stairs and disappear from sight.

"Young mistress." A servant stepped forward, his head cocked slightly to the side. "Would you like me to prepare your beverages?"

"Yes, please." She smiled tiredly at him. "Thank you, Mistpelt." He bowed to her before heading off in the direction of the kitchen and Leafpool turned to the rest of the staff. "Everyone," she said, raising her voice so she could be heard. "I apologize for the mess we have caused. Please feel free to take the night off and relax. I will ask the chef to prepare milk and honey for everyone, so please join me in the dining room when the beverages are ready." One of the maids stepped forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Leafpool's head.

"Thank you, Leafpool," she whispered softly. "You've saved us all."

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

Crowfeather marveled at how close Leafpool seemed to be with the servants of her manor. Her words were kind and respectful, but their gestures were even more so. All of them gazed at the brunette with fondness and loyalty—a feat that was very unusual in his own house. All of the servants at his manor were frivolous, bitter, and gossipers. There was very little to hide from prying eyes, and Crowfeather decided that if he were to ever become head of the house, he would do something to change the relationship between aristocrats and their servants.

Her earlier outburst with Dustpelt had startled him. He hadn't expected her to leap in front of the dark-haired aristocrat like that and raise her voice so shrilly. In the time that he had grown closer to Leafpool, he had learned just how much of a pacifist she was. She disliked confrontations and often was the first to withdraw from a controversial argument. She always had a kind word to say and merely kept her jaw set and stiff whenever there was a ruder comment she wanted to make. Judging by the shocked expressions on the faces around him, that outburst was most likely the first time that Leafpool had lost her temper. While the Leafpool that had threatened him five years before was cold and intimidating, this Leafpool was fiery, proud, and defensive. She was finally living up to her house's name—strong and powerful like flame, but warm and protective like a hearth.

His interest in her was unnerving. He spent nights pacing the floors of the guest bedroom, wondering how exactly he was going to ask for Feathertail's hand in marriage before she was stolen away by another suitor. He spent hours daydreaming about what it would be like to court Feathertail and spend a day holding her hand. All the time he spent with Feathertail was a treasure he held close to his heart, but the fleeting moments he shared with Leafpool burned the brightest in the back of his mind. They lingered like the smoke that curled around an extinguished candle—heavy, thick, and hypnotic. His chest grew tight at the thought of her small chuckles, her shy smiles, her blazing eyes, her silky voice—all of these drove deep into his mind, deeper than Feathertail's ever did.

Before he realized it, Crowfeather yearned to care for Leafpool. She was fragile yet powerful in a way that he couldn't ignore. So when the main hallway cleared of servants and Leafpool's calm mask slipped, he wasn't surprised to feel his arms slip around her and pull her into his chest. She had stiffened at the contact, but quickly relaxed into him, her own arms looping around his waist. He cooed absentmindedly into her ear, gently guiding her to the den. When they reached the room, he settled her down on one of the couches, allowing her to wrap her arms around him and melt into his embrace. Before long, they were informed by a flushed and stammering servant that the beverages were ready and everyone was waiting for the two aristocrats to make their presence in the dining room.

Everything was a blur after that—he faintly remembered walking Leafpool to her room and giving her one last hug before dragging himself to the guest bedroom he resided it. There, in the confines of a dark room, he felt his mind unwind and sort through the events of the day. He could still smell Leafpool's scent lingering on him, a thick, fragrant blend of vanilla and lavender. He could still feel her in his arms, soft and slender, emanating a warmth that made him feel boneless. He could still feel her breath puffing against his collarbone, each breath varying in length as she tried to hold her tears in.

He wondered what her tears tasted like. He wondered how it would feel to have her in his arms, crying against him. He wondered how he would feel as he stroked her back, soothing her as she spilled her heart out to him. For the first time in his life, he wondered what life would be like if it were Leafpool standing at his side. Little did he know, just a few rooms away, the object of his thoughts was thinking about the same thing.

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

_She found herself sitting at the pebbly riverbank again, listening to the waters lap against the sides of the pool. Most of the stars seemed to be absent tonight, Leafpool noted, as she gazed up at the sky. It was most likely the due to the brightness of the moon's light, but a few stars shone diligently against their dark surroundings, as if trying to carve their mark into the sky. Her dark tail tapped gently against the pebbles underneath her in a rhythmic yet restless beat. She was waiting for someone here, and she wasn't about to leave without some answers._

_"Leafpool!" The brown she-cat turned to see a familiar tortoiseshell leap out of the surrounding grass, a purr rising from her throat._

_"You know why I'm here, Spottedleaf," Leafpool replied coldly, rising to her paws. The medicine cat started at the hostile look in the brown she-cat's eyes and gazed worriedly at the younger cat. A hard look set in Spottedleaf's amber eyes and her whiskered twitched decisively._

_"I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate."_

_"Give my father back," Leafpool snarled, stalking forward. "Stop ripping my family apart. For Starreign's sake—if you're convinced that you were never meant to fall in love, why are you still clinging onto my father like a dying shadow?"_

_"You can't choose who you love," Spottedleaf objected, "or when to stop."_

_"That's true," the brown-she cat growled, "but you can stop visiting him."_

_"Even if I stop visiting him, the damage is done. You can't change a person's heart."_

_"But there is a way to tell it it's wrong," Leafpool shot back. "Or are you convinced that my father will come to you after he dies?"_

_"Leafpool, you know I would never want that!"_

_"Don't you start," Leafpool spat. "You will never be who Sandstorm is—you will never take her place in his heart. She's done so much more for him than you ever could." At her words, the tortoiseshell cat bristled. "Stop acting as if you know what's best for my family!"_

_"I'm doing what's best for_ Firestar _," Spottedleaf screeched. "I've always done what's best for him and I will continue to do so!"_

_"And you think making him care for someone who isn't even there will help him?"_

_"I stand for more than you think I do!" Gazing at Spottedleaf, Leafpool realized just exactly what the medicine cat was trying to achieve._

_"You're right, Spottedleaf. You're not just a woman who's breaking my family apart. You're a poison. You're trying to kill all of us." Leafpool took a menacing step forward, forcing the tortoiseshell back. "You're trying to break whatever feelings I could possibly have for_ anyone. _" Leafpool gazed bitterly at the she-cat. "You want me to follow in your footsteps. You want me to live the life you had to lead. Why?" She cocked her head to the side before answering her own question. "Because you're_ sick of being alone _."_

_"You don't know anything," Spottedleaf hissed, leaping in front of Leafpool. The brown she-cat flinched, but held her ground. "I know what's best and I'm doing it for both of you. I'm not lonely!" The two of them glared at each other, eyes taunting the other to attack first. Whoever gives in first would be the one at fault. The grass rustled behind Spottedleaf and Leafpool unwillingly tore her eyes away from the medicine to see two felines step into the clearing. Although the brown-she cat was distracted, the tortoiseshell did nothing to attack her. "What do you want, Yellowfang?" The medicine cat spat angrily. "And you, Bluestar?"_

_"_ Enough _." Spottedleaf flinched under the intensity of the blue she-cat's gaze. Casting a wary glance at the medicine cat, the blue-eyed cat stepped forward. "You are dismissed, Spottedleaf." The tortoiseshell cat opened her mouth to object, but Bluestar turned her gaze on her menacingly. "_ Now. _" Snapping her jaws shut, Spottedleaf slunk away, throwing glares at Leafpool as she disappeared into the tall, long grass. Once the tortoiseshell was out of sight, the blue she-cat relaxed and addressed the brown she-cat. "Leafpool, I was a close friend of your father's. My name is Bluestar." The amber-eyed cat bowed her head respectfully in greeting. "This is Yellowfang—she was Cinderpelt's former mentor and a former advisor of your father's."_

_"Enough with the introductions, Bluestar," Yellowfang rasped. "Leafpool, do not fear for your family. You will be reunited very soon."_

_"Perhaps much sooner than you think," Bluestar added, just as another voice filled the clearing._

"Leafpool, where are you? Leafpool!"

_"Wake up, quickly!" The blue-eyed she-cat told her._

_"How do I do that?" Leafpool yelped, looking for an exit. When she turned back to the two she-cats for help, she realized that both of them had disappeared and the world around her was disintegrating. "Holy Starreign!"_

* * *

"Leafpool!" The door was thrown open and Graystripe burst into her room, panting heavily. The brunette leapt of bed, startled and unsteady as she tried to gather her bearings. Once she was in control of her body again, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and raced to his side.

"What happened? Are you okay?" She cupped his face in her hands worriedly.  _"Perhaps your family will be reunited much sooner than you think,"_  Bluestar's words echoed through her head. "Graystripe!"

"Sandstorm—Squirrely," the gray-haired aristocrat wheezed. "Accident—road—" He shook his head dazedly, swallowing rapidly. "Blood—" Leafpool's blood chilled and she stepped away from him, wrapping her arms around herself. The sound of footsteps filled the air and she looked up just in time to see Firestar and Crowfeather rush into her room, Cinderpelt hot on their heels.

"Graystripe? Leafpool?" Her father asked as he rushed to her side. He fell to his knees and caught her just as her legs gave out. He ran his thumbs over her cheeks, his green eyes filled with concern and fear. Leafpool nearly burst into tears on the spot—finally,  _finally_ , her father was beginning to look like himself again. "What happened? Are you alright?" He demanded.

"Papa—" Leafpool's breath caught in her throat at the startled expression in his eyes. " _Papa—!_ " She buried her head into his shoulder, letting out a dry sob. "Squirrelflight—mother—oh Starreign!"

"Graystripe? What in Starreign's name is going on?"

"Sandstorm and Squirrelflight were an in accident at the edge of Herobexy manor." The gray-haired aristocrat's breath hitched awkwardly in his throat. He had recovered significantly, but was still breathless from running. "I came back as soon as I could." Firestar's arms tightened significantly around Leafpool and he pressed his cheek urgently against the side of her head. She could hear him muttering something under his breath, low enough that she couldn't understand him, even at a close proximity.

"Tell the servants to get me my horse," he said suddenly, rising to his feet. When nobody moved, he shifted Leafpool his arms and glared at them. "Well?" he growled. "Are we going to stay here and stare the night away?" The brunette heard the sound of footsteps fill the air as a presence quickly left the room. Firestar released her and quickly led her out of the room, ducking into his bedroom and returning with two riding cloaks in his hands. He threw one around Leafpool's shoulders and quickly fastened his own. "We're going to them," he said to Graystripe, who was watching them by the staircase. Relief glowed in his amber eyes.

"You're finally back," the gray-haired aristocrat breathed. Firestar gave him a quick smile and grabbed Leafpool around the waist.

"I finally remembered what was important," he said before sliding down the railing with his daughter in his arms. "Come on!" He tugged on Leafpool's arm as they ran out of the manor. "Is Varnish ready?"

"Yes sir!" Leafpool was quickly boosted on a chestnut stallion's back as her father swung up behind her. Two arms circled around her and grabbed the reigns as a warm, solid chest pressed into her back.

"Run like the  _wind_ , Varnish," Firestar breathed before snapping the reigns. "Hiyah!" The stallion took off; jolting Leafpool into her father as he quickly fell into a gallop. Leafpool's heart ached for the horse underneath her—this ride would most likely be his last. It was suicidal to make a horse run for hours without a break—especially on a trip that took a carriage at least four hours to complete.  _This is the last time he'll ever ride with my father_ , she thought as she gazed up at Firestar. The misty look in his eyes informed her that he was very well aware that this run would be the one to kill his beloved steed. "Hiyah!"

* * *

Third Person – Firestar

He had been dreaming this entire time. Every time he saw pain flicker through Sandstorm's eyes, he had thought,  _there's always tomorrow._  He would apologize for his wrongdoings tomorrow. That was what he thought of every night, when he burrowed in his blankets and realized just how much he had hurt her. He stayed on the edge of their bed out of guilt—he couldn't imagine why Sandstorm would even want to sleep next to him after what he had done. He avoided her in the mornings, but when it hurt too much to bear, he locked himself in his study and drank himself silly.  _If I lock up my feelings_ , he thought,  _if I lock these moments away, then there's no way that she would ever be hurt_.

How very wrong he had been.

While Spottedleaf plagued his dreams with sweet words, tender glances, and the sinfully seductive  _"we can never be"_ , he found himself longing for Sandstorm's smoldering gaze, her burning touch, and the calm fulfillment that came in her arms. He missed how silky her auburn hair was as it slipped through his fingers; he missed the soft chuckles she would make whenever he pressed kisses to her jaw. He missed every single bit of his wife and he was the very reason she left him.

He had been careless and bitter the day his wife left. For a split second, he wondered how life would've been like had Spottedleaf never died. The two of them would've been happily married, perhaps with a few children along the way, and a fairly supportive group of friends. They would rarely have arguments and Spottedleaf would fulfill the role of the perfect wife—kind, gentle, soothing. She would ease his tensions with a single touch and her smile would be just enough to take the edge off of politics and reality. For a second, he saw himself with Spottedleaf and turned his bitterness of her death onto Sandstorm. When she had slapped him, Firestar felt reality sinking in again and caught a brief glance of what he had thrown away for a frivolous daydream.

Sandstorm was strong, bold, and loyal. She was the flame to his heart—fierce and overwhelming like a roaring fire, but protective and soothing like the hearth. She was far from the perfect wife, with her quick temper and her brash honesty, but these were all qualities that were highly attractive in an equal. Even at a young age, Sandstorm had refused to be seen as anything less. When he was younger and had just been recognized for becoming an aristocrat, she had been hostile, haughty, and rude. But as time went on, her words grew kinder and her smiles warmer.

Before long, he had realized why she had treated him so horribly at first. Being a free spirit, she was terrified of the idea of being controlled by a male. In the peasantry ranks, it was not uncommon for communities to be patriarchal. Men often took advantage of their wives and their sisters—ordering them around and expecting complete obedience. Sandstorm was most likely unsettled by the thought of being so close to someone who could threaten her way of living and challenge her refusal to be submissive. Before long, he had felt his heart tug in her direction, unknowingly warmed by her awkward acts of kindness and undying support.

It had been a shock to him when she kissed him on the night of his nineteenth birthday. Her cheeks had been flushed from the sweet, disarming wine and her eyes glittered uneasily at him as she pulled back. Murmuring a small apology, she fled, more than aware of the eyes that chased after her. It was only until the next morning that Firestar realized that he loved her. The next few days were spent hanging around Herobexy manor, trying to catch her alone and propose a time for courtship. She had evaded him for many days before her pride couldn't allow her to flee anymore. The one thing that he didn't expect, however, was for her to start crying at his profession of love. She loved him.  _She loved him_.

 _Sandstorm._  His heart longed for her and the blood in his veins sang the closer he got to Herobexy manor. He could feel Varnish heaving from underneath him, the horse pushing on despite the pain his body must've been in. Being forced to run at full speed along a long road—his legs were most likely on the verge of snapping off. Either way, his loyal, trustworthy steed pushed on, his valiant heart rising up to meet his master.  _Thank you, Varnish_ , he thought, his hands tightening on the reigns.  _Thank you for letting me piece my family back together._

It had been a shock when Leafpool had called him "papa". It was always Squirrelflight's term for him while the brunette always resided with the more formal "father". Leafpool was frightfully observant and selfless as she allowed her sister to monopolize of his time. There were many days where he would be holding a rambunctious Squirrelflight in his arms and wonder what it would be like if it was Leafpool who was standing by him. It hurt to see that the brunette was less willing to spend time with him, but knowing her, it was most likely because she believed Squirrelflight was his favorite.

Was it possible to play favorites between his two daughters? They were so drastically different that it was difficult for him to choose a favorite. Both had their good and bad qualities. Both were caring, supportive, and loving. Both of them were  _his daughters_. If asked which he loved more, he would reply that he loved them both. And it was true. Regardless of how much time he spent with either one, he loved them equally.  _I've been stupid_ , he thought.  _I've been clinging onto Spottedleaf for so long. I've been so blind to my family. To my daughters._ His heart ached.  _My wife._

As if he understood his owner's feelings, Varnish pushed himself harder, his huffs increasing in volume as he raced across the road. Firestar felt his eyes grow damp as he felt his stallion's muscles twitch and bunch underneath him.  _Thank you, old friend._  How long has it been? Five—seven years?  _May you rest peacefully in Starreign._

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

The second that she and her father leapt off of Varnish, the chestnut stallion collapsed. Firestar let out an anguished cry and knelt down by his faithful horse, but quickly stepped aside when several stablemen ran toward them. He watched helplessly as Varnish was prodded all over and a few more stablemen rushed over with a cart. After the horse was settled on the cart, he was quickly wheeled away to the stables, where the Herobexy vet would look over him. Leafpool felt a bitter lump grow in her throat as she watched her father stare after his horse, but she reached out to him and tugged him back to reality.

His startled green eyes turned on her before a solemn look crossed his face. He nodded to her before the two of them walked briskly through the manor doors and stepped into the main hallway. Leafpool surveyed her surroundings uneasily—because the house of Herobexy had many more families residing in it, their manor was enormous. According to what Tawnypelt told her in one of their earlier conversations, there were at least five more mansions built to house all the members. While her home was subtly elegant and welcoming, Herobexy seemed to be more extravagant and cold. No wonder Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt were always so willing to come over.

Firestar caught the first servant that walked by and smiled briefly at him. "Excuse me; I'm looking for a woman named Sandstorm. Do you know where she is?"

"She's not here, bastard." Both Zephyra aristocrats turned their heads to see Dustpelt glaring down at them from the second floor. "What makes you think you're welcome here?"

"Where is my wife, Dustpelt?" Firestar's voice was icy when he addressed the brunet. Leafpool shivered at the unfamiliar tone of his voice. "You tell me now, or I'll go door to door until I find her." His eyes grew hard as he stared at the Herobexy aristocrat. "I have little patience for your games right now," he growled after a few silent minutes. " _Tell me_  or I will rip this manor apart."

"Go ahead," Dustpelt shot back. "There're five more mansions beside this one and at least ten shelters set up in the woods." Firestar's green eyes narrowed into slits and he snarled at the brunet. Leafpool felt her father tense next to her and every fiber in her body screamed at her to restrain him.

"I'll take you there." Brambleclaw appeared at Dustpelt's side and ignored the glower the brunet gave him. "We don't need a political war right now, Dustpelt," the younger aristocrat warned. Turning to the Zephyra aristocrats, he smiled apologetically to them. "She's upstairs. Come on." Dustpelt shot Firestar one last venomous glare before stalking off, grumbling angrily under his breath. Leafpool shared a look with Brambleclaw as she and her father climbed up the stairs to meet him. She glanced back at her father before speeding up to match the brunet's pace.

"What happened?" She whispered urgently. "Are they okay?"

"Squirrelflight's in shock, but for the most part, she's okay," Brambleclaw murmured softly. "She got away with a few scrapes and bruises, but I'm a little more concerned with her left arm. Our physician's trying to determine whether it's broken, fractured, or sprained."

"And my wife?" Firestar's voice cut into the conversation and both teenagers glanced back at him in surprise.

"I don't know," Brambleclaw admitted. "One side of her head was completely covered in blood when Graystripe and Dustpelt brought her in. Our physician said that she was in shock, but Ferncloud told me that head wounds tend to bleed heavily, so it just looks worse than it really is." He paused before adding, "Our other doctor was stitching her up when you two arrived. Sandstorm's probably getting over the anesthetics."

"Your horses stumbled on a few loose stones at the edge of the road." Leafpool looked up to see Dustpelt regarding them coolly at the top of the third floor. "The horses were going too fast and they slid into a ditch. One of them is critical condition right now, but the other one seems to be unharmed." The brunet pushed away from the wall and crossed his arms. "The carriage tipped over and Squirrelflight did her best to break her mother's fall. She ended up fracturing her left wrist, so she'll be out of commission for a while." He ignored Leafpool's glare at the reference to battle. "Sandstorm was on the side that hit the ground first. She knocked her head against the side of the coach and blacked out. Your coachman snapped his arm, but managed to help Squirrelflight staunch the bleeding.

"That's when Graystripe and I showed up. Thankfully, we were close enough that we could transfer Squirrelflight and Sandstorm into our carriage and get her to the manor doctors within a few minutes. We had to send a few stablemen back for the horses." Brambleclaw nodded up to where Dustpelt was and the two Zephyra aristocrats followed him warily.

The brunet glared angrily at Firestar as the redhead neared. "Look here, Firestar," he growled lowly. "I'm willing to forgive you as long as Sandstorm does. But I'm warning you—don't wallow who's already dead. Take care of those who are still around you because you never know how much longer they'll be able to stay with you. Don't take  _anyone_  for granted."

Leafpool felt a wave of sympathy wash over her as she gazed at Dustpelt. Ten years ago, he and Ferncloud lost two of their triplets to a particularly nasty virus. The brunet was mourning to this day and often did whatever he could to shield his remaining child from the rest of the world.  _He only has Birchfall now,_  Leafpool thought. Of course, his wife had never really gotten over the loss of her two children. From what her mother had told her, the two Herobexy aristocrats were extremely uncertain of whether they wanted to have more children or not.

"Thank you." Firestar bowed his head to Dustpelt when they stopped by an open door. Ferncloud poked her head out and relaxed significantly when she saw Leafpool and Firestar standing there.

"She's awake," the woman whispered. "Do you want me to—"

Firestar pressed a finger to his lips and a relieved smile crossed Ferncloud's face. She nodded vigorously and stepped out of the room. "Come with me," she hissed to Dustpelt, Brambleclaw, and Leafpool as she tugged them away from the room. "I'll take you to where Squirrelflight is." She paused as she gazed at Leafpool and gave the brunet a reassuring smile. "Everything is going to be fine now," she murmured softly. "Your father is a good man. He stumbles and falls, but he always gets back on his feet. Your mother is safe with him."

Leafpool nodded to the aristocrat before glancing over her shoulder at her father. He gave her one last smile before slipping into the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him.


	7. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst of trouble and conflict, Leafpool and Squirrelflight find themselves entering the next, and unfairly hormonal, stage of their life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos!
> 
> I apologize to Leticia, the Pain behind the Mask, and Ripplesteam of Treeclan; I have other plans for Firestar in this story, so the request for his death is vetoed. Him dying would only cause Sandstorm even more pain, and I personally believe she's suffered enough. In addition to that, Sandstorm was already saved by the doctor...so there isn't really a way that Firestar can save her (as of right now). His death at this point is impossible, that is, unless he tries to commit suicide or she tries to kill him when he goes into the room or Dustpelt has a complete change of character and decides to kill Firestar. But regardless, I thank you all for the suggestion.
> 
> I hope you guys don't hate how this chapter goes.

Third Person – Firestar

A wave of fear washed over him as he watched his daughter being led further down the hallway. She was undoubtedly going to meet her sister, but there was something unnerving about Ferncloud's stare as she slid out of the room.  _Fix her_. That had been what her eyes had been saying.  _Fix Sandstorm._  Now that he was here, standing a few feet away from his wife, he had no idea what he was going to say. Was he going to beg her to come back to him? Tell her that he would die for her? Reiterate his wedding vows? Would she even take him back?

Taking a deep breath, he looked up to see Leafpool giving him a worried glance. He gave her a small smile to reassure the both of them before he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Sandstorm looked up at the slight disturbance in the room and her eyes narrowed angrily when saw him. "Go away, Firestar," she hissed. He stiffened, taking in the full extent of her wounds.  _I caused this_ , he thought helplessly as his eyes ran over the bandage on the side of her face, the scrapes on her arms, and the bruise that decorated her cheek.

As he gazed at her, he thought he saw her eyes soften for a second before turning hard again. Firestar opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Sandstorm's gaze grew increasingly wary as he repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, trying to find something to say but having difficulty controlling his voice. He felt the telltale signs of tears as his chest tightened and his vision began to blur as he stood there under her scrutiny. Quickly turning away, he choked out an "I'm sorry" before leaving. A hand wrapped around his wrist just as he stepped outside and dragged him back in, slamming the door shut behind him.

Sandstorm glared at him, pressing him up against the door. She winced, hand coming up to cup her bandaged temple. When he reached out for her, she gave him another wary look and his hand dropped immediately. "What do you want?" She asked. Her eyes flashed dangerously. "What do you have to say?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "I can't think of anything to say."

"And why is that?" She was expecting an explanation. Of course—after all he had done, he very well owed her one.  _Because I don't know if there's anything I can say to make you come back to me._  His throat tightened up and he looked down, willing the tears away as they threatened to peek over the edge of his eyes.  _I don't love Spottedleaf? I don't want anyone but you? She doesn't deserve words like that._  His throat closed up completely and he turned his head away as the first tear slid onto his cheek.  _She doesn't deserve someone like me._  His mind ran off that tangent and suddenly he began imagining how life would've been if she had reciprocated Dustpelt's feelings.

 _He's always resented me because she loved me_ , he thought, turning to face the door as another tear slid down the other cheek.  _He resented me because he loved her first and I loved her second._  The tensions between the two of them had subsided slightly when Dustpelt found love in Ferncloud, but it was never really gone. There was always some bitterness standing between them, and it all had to do with love.

Roughened fingertips touched his face gently and he flinched as if they had burned him. His eyes flew open and he stared at Sandstorm as she wiped a tear away with her thumb. "Does it have to be something that's said?" There was still a touch of wariness in her eyes, but there was also a light of hope and longing glowing from deep within. She stepped closer to him hesitantly, wiping the tear from the other cheek. "Can you…" her green eyes flickered shyly up to meet his. "Show me?"

His resistance snapped at her words. He fell into her, sobbing, as her arms came around him reassuringly. His hung limply at his own sides, terrified that she would object if he were to embrace her. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry; I'm sorry; I'm sorry." He repeated this like a mantra, drowning himself in her scent and her warmth. He was faintly aware of her hands running up and down his sides, pressing into the small of his back and stroking his face as he cried. When his tears subsided, he was numb and defeated.  _She's never coming back to someone like me_ , he decided.  _I can't let her._  He began to pull himself from her arms, but he started when she kept him locked in her embrace.

"Do you love me, Firestar?" She asked him softly, pressing her forehead against his.

"I—"  _don't deserve you._

"Do you love  _me_?" She repeated herself.

"Yes." When she smiled at him, he felt the world fit together again. "Please come home." He took a shuddering breath. "Please come back to me."

* * *

Third Person – Sandstorm

She wasn't ready to see him just yet. It had only been about ten hours since she left. When Ferncloud left the room, she knew it was only a matter of time before she saw his face again. She steeled her nerves and looked up just as he slipped in.  _He looks so pale_ , she thought forlornly before swatting herself inwardly for being so concerned.  _This man broke you, Sandstorm_ , she reminded herself irritably.  _Don't forgive him so easily! Don't care for him so easily!_  Despite her protests, a small voice inside of her fretted over him, convinced that she needed to care for him.

"Go away, Firestar." Good. The words came out harsh, bitter—just the way she wanted them to. His face twisted in pain, but it wasn't her eyes that he was looking at. No, his gaze traveled all over her body, taking in the bandages and angry red scrapes on her arms. A part of her wanted to hide under the blankets and hide her wounded body from him.  _I don't want think I'm not beautiful anymore_. She shook her head angrily at the thought.  _I don't him to see me anymore. I don't want him to think of me anymore._  When his eyes finally met hers again, she saw just how broken he was—fragile, lost, and devastated.

 _You broke him, Sandstorm_ , a voice said quietly in her head.

 _No, he broke_ me, she hissed back.  _I'm the broken one._  Firestar gazed at her for a few more moments before turned away with a broken, "I'm sorry." Sandstorm could hear the tears, thick and heavy in his voice as he rushed to leave the room.  _No, this wasn't how it's supposed to be_ , she thought as she stared after him.  _You were supposed to ask me to come back…you were supposed to stay…_ She couldn't let him leave like this. She leapt out of her bed in a flash, grabbing Firestar roughly by the wrist and dragging him back into the room. When she slammed him into the door, her temple throbbed painfully and she pressed a hand to it immediately.

He reached out for her then, concern filling his eyes, but he quickly withdrew at her scowl. "What do you want, Firestar?" Good, her voice was still strong.  _You can do this, Sandstorm. Figure out what the man wants and then throw him out. It's as simple as that._  "What do you have to say?"  _Shoot_. The words came out wrong. She had meant to ask him what he wanted to say. Now it sounded like she expected him to beg her to come back.  _You stupid, prideful woman_ , she thought bitterly.  _This is why he chose Spottedleaf over you._

"I don't know." Sandstorm looked up in shock as Firestar blinked blankly at her. "I can't think of anything to say."

An angry, bitter feeling filled her heart at his word.  _You can't think of anything to say?_  She raged inwardly.  _Out of all the things you could say to me, you can't even think of a single one?_ "And why is that?" she asked scathingly. A dazed, lost look crossed Firestar's face. He looked down at the floor between them and Sandstorm felt her anger quickly fade into annoyance.  _Oh, so we're playing_ that  _game now?_  He let out a choked note as he stepped away from her, hiding half of his face. Her irritation was quickly replaced with concern.  _Firestar?_  He took a heaving breath before turning his back to her completely, resting his forehead against the door. His breath hitched once and with a jolt, Sandstorm realized that he was crying.

 _Oh Starreign_ , she thought helplessly.

 _He really treasures you_ , a voice sighed from deep within.  _He can't do anything but cry in front of you now. He's thoroughly convinced that nothing he can say will bring you back to him._  The voice paused for a second as it waited for the realization to sink in.  _He's nothing without you._

 _I broke him_. As she gazed at Firestar's back, all she saw was the hollow husk of a man.  _I broke one of the most powerful men I know._ She had to do something. She couldn't let it end this way. Before she knew it, she was turning him around to face her, his tear-stained face cradled in her hands. It seemed that her body knew exactly what she wanted before her mind could decide. She stroked his cheek, gently rubbing away the tear that marked it. His eyes flew open and Sandstorm found herself staring at the most vulnerable side of Firestar. "Does it have to be something that's said?" The redheaded man stared at her, hope and fear lighting up his green eyes.

Oh how she loved those eyes. Wiping the tear from his other cheek, she leaned in hesitantly, sighing as his breath fluttered against her lips. "Can you…show me?" Firestar's face twisted in pain and he crumbled, falling to pieces in her arms. For a split second she was stunned, unsure of how to react to the sobbing mess that poured his heart into her embrace. The next moment she was running her hands through his hair, up and down his sides, and against the small of his back. The entire time she held him, she noticed, his arms were hanging limply at his sides.  _He doesn't think I want him to touch me_ , she thought to herself. A small, bitter smile crossed her lips.  _What a foolish man._  She rested her head against his. My  _foolish man._

"I'm sorry," he breathed into the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry; I'm sorry; I'm sorry." Sandstorm held him as he cried and repeated his apologies each icy fragment of her heart melting away with each apology. It was a beautiful surrender. When he began to pull away, her arms tightened around his waist. He looked up, overwhelmed by confusion.

"Do you love me, Firestar?" She whispered, pressing her forehead against him. She felt him hesitate and growled inwardly. He was going to degrade himself again.

"I—"

"Do you love  _me_?" She asked again, pressing her entire body against him. He gazed at her, a mixture of hope and fear glowing in his emerald eyes. With a shudder, he leaned back against her, finally wrapping his arms around her.

"Yes." He pressed his nose against hers and took a shaky breath. "Please come home," he whispered. "Please come back to me." Sandstorm pressed her lips against his and relished the tenderness of his lips.  _They're softer than usual_ , she noted inwardly. His lips had swelled slightly from his tears and he pressed back against her desperately, making a small, distressed note. She broke off the kiss to gaze at him, a tender smile crossing her face when he leaned in for more.

 _My foolish, broken man_. She sighed as Firestar lifted her hand and gently brushed a kiss over her scrapes. "You should rest for a little longer," he whispered, gently pushing his nose against hers. "And I should probably go check up on Squirrelflight." When he made a move to leave, Sandstorm tugged him back to her.

"Stay," she murmured, gently rubbing their noses together. "Squirrelflight has Leafpool to fuss over her. I need  _you_." She blinked up at him. "So? Are you going to stay?"

"Always," he murmured, pressing his lips to hers again.

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

When Brambleclaw stopped in front of an open room and motioned for her to step in, the brunette had hesitated.  _Is it really necessary that he stands outside?_  Either way, she nodded gratefully at him and slid into the room. Squirrelflight, who was staring out the window with a pout, turned around immediately at her entrance. The redhead's eyes lit up and she beamed at her sister.

"Leafpool! You're here!" She paused and glanced down at her arm with a wince. "Great Starreign, this probably looks horrible." The brunette settled down carefully on the bed and examined her sister's arm.  _Looks like the doctor set it correctly_ , she thought in relief. She frowned quickly afterward, plucking at the bandages with obvious displeasure.  _But the bandage-work is a completely different story._ With a sigh, she began to undo the cloth before winding it more securely around the brace Squirrelflight's arm was tied to. Leafpool felt her sister gaze at her in amusement as she tightened the fabric and sat back with a satisfied huff.

"Did they give you something for the pain?" She asked softly.

"Yeah, something that makes me feel a bit ditzy, but the feeling will pass sooner or later," the redhead replied. She wiggled her arm experimentally and grinned when Leafpool glared at her. Pining Squirrelflight's arm to the bed, the brunette watched her sister warily before settling back down. Suddenly, the easygoing look in the redhead's eyes faded into complete seriousness. "Is papa with you?"

Leafpool bit her lip. Although she was happy that the Herobexy doctor hadn't given Squirrelflight enough medicine to make her delirious, the topic of their parents was still touchy. "He's with mother right now," the brunette murmured after a few moments of silence. "I hope everything's alright between the two of them."

"Oh they're fine, alright," Dustpelt grumbled, stalking into the room. Brambleclaw gave Leafpool an apologetic look before following suit. "Kissing under someone's roof…you'd think they'd have the decency to do it in their own house…" Leafpool and Squirrelflight shared a look before bursting out into giggles. A feeling of relief settled over the brunette's heart.  _Thank Starreign everything is alright._  Settling against a crowded bookcase, the amber-eyed aristocrat cocked his head at Leafpool. "How's our doctor?"

"He'll do," the brunette sniffed testily. "He was…mediocre on the bandages."

"Horrible," Squirrelflight translated. "Fire him. Call for Cinderpelt. She's our only hope." She flopped dramatically onto her bed, emitting a low wail of pain.

"Like bandages killed anyone," Dustpelt growled scathingly.

"You can imagine," Brambleclaw chuckled. Of course, this remark earned him a bemused glare from the older aristocrat.

"Anyway, our doctor is just fine."

"Cinderpelt's better," Squirrelflight shot back.

"That's because you're used to her."

"She's been our doctor for over seven years! It'd be hard  _not_  to be used to her!"

"Well our doctor's been with us for over two decades."

"At least Cinderpelt's nice and funny." Squirrelflight grumbled. "Your doctor gave me a dirty look and tut-tutted at me when I told him the bandages were too loose."

"He's not the most sociable person in the world."

"Excuses—excuses!"

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

In the months that followed her parents' reunion, Leafpool and her sister reached their fourteen year. Before long, the brunette found herself documenting the various differences of her body in the mirror in the morning, gazing uneasily at her developing body. Each day was greeted with chest pains, aching limbs, and an awkwardly pitched voice. It wasn't long before their mother had asked their seamstresses to start sewing supportive pads into their clothing. When they were told that it wouldn't be long before they would have to start wearing corsets, Squirrelflight had balked and ignored her father for days. It was only until Leafpool soothed her that the redhead begrudgingly agreed to be measured for the whalebone clothing.

Leafpool smiled bemusedly as she skimmed through her newest sketchbook. She had a few drawings of her sister being fitted by the seamstresses and a couple others of the corsets in process. Despite the hellish feeling of being poked and prodded by the bony clothing, she couldn't help but admire how beautiful they were. There was a certain elegance to them with their lacy sides, delicate ribbons, and womanly grace. She could almost feel them shaping her into the woman she saw drifting through her dreams—divine, mystifying,  _goddess_.

But the image she saw before her was awkward and gangly, with thin, shaky arms and growing pains. As if to make matters more complicated, Cinderpelt informed her and her sister that they were turning over a new leaf and starting the next chapter of their life. A new chapter, the gray-haired tutor said, that she and Sandstorm would be more than willing to guide them through. In the weeks that followed, she and her sister were thrown into uncharted oceans, learning in depth the wonders of the human body and the truth of child-bearing. There were times where Squirrelflight would ask to leave the room with a traumatized expression on her face and other times where the two of them could easily be mistaken for tomatoes with their burning cheeks, but in the end, Leafpool took the lessons to her heart.

"Very few aristocrats are graced with the knowledge of this information _,_ " Cinderpelt told them. "Even more so the midwives that wait on them. Many women have helped others deliver their children with a mixture of luck and chance. They know very little of how to treat a woman whose child had not yet turned or when there are complications in the birth." The gray-haired woman paused then, a wistful and melancholic glint in her eyes. "Both the mother and her child will die in those circumstances. The reason why I'm teaching you these things is because I feel that knowledge will help you in circumstances that may seem out of your control. As long as you know what is needed, there is will always a chance of the impossible becoming feasible."

* * *

Her first encounter with love was brought to her through Squirrelflight. It had been going on for a few months now, as the redhead's playful banters with Brambleclaw became less and less frequent. Squirrelflight took to being agitated around the brunet and often exhibited rosy cheeks. It wasn't look before Leafpool noticed the knowing gleam in her mother's eye and the wary glares her father threw Brambleclaw over the dinner table. What bothered her more was how it didn't take long for Tawnypelt to share sly smiles with Feathertail and giggle at the confused redhead.

It was a like a fresh breath of air when Squirrelflight burst into her room in the dead of the night, blabbering incoherently as she climbed into the brunette's bed. In the most dire circumstances, it made Leafpool feel honored that she was the first that Squirrelflight ran to. Once the two of them were situated under the blankets and the redhead had calmed down significantly, Leafpool was able to make sense of her sister's babbles. "My stomach feels like it's in knots whenever I'm around him," Squirrelflight admitted as Leafpool ran her fingers soothingly through her red hair. "And my skin burns where touches me." The redhead buried her face into her sister's collar and the heat radiating off of her skin told the brunette she was blushing. "I'm so…self-conscious around him. I'm scared to know what he thinks of me." The fingers on Leafpool's nightgown tightened. "I'm scared to know what these feelings are."

Leafpool stayed as her sister voiced her worries, taking in each word and rolling it over in her head. When Squirrelflight finally caved into the quiet melody of sleep, she left her sister staring at the ceiling, drawing the redhead's concerns deeper and deeper into her heart. What was this strange feeling that was plaguing her sister? Was there anything that she could do to alleviate that pressure? Was there any possibility that it would one day come to haunt her? When she took these questions to Cinderpelt the next day, she was met with a tender smile before she and her sister were brought before their mother.

That day, Sandstorm explained it all—the butterflies, the burning, the self-consciousness. "It's when you wonder if the person in front of you is someone you want to be with for the rest of your life," the auburn-haired woman murmured. "He's the first one you look for when you step into the room, he's the first person you look for in a crowd—he's the one who makes you feel anxious regardless of whether he's standing right next to you or is sitting miles away." A small, bemused smile crossed their mother's face. "Despite having been rather oblivious about his own love life, your father has taken quite an interest in yours," Sandstorm chuckled, eye glittering at Squirrelflight.

The redheaded girl had bristled immediately at the thought of her father interfering in whatever feeling she held for Brambleclaw, but her mother quickly reassured her that Firestar's intentions were in her best interests. "He's not pleased that you have to wait," Sandstorm explained, "but he's also terrified of you growing up too quickly." She smiled sadly as she gazed at her two daughters. "He's lost a lot of time," she whispered softly before the grin on her face grew mischievous. "Brambleclaw should consider what's standing in front of him soon or I'm afraid your father is going to question his intentions with you. But I heard that Tawnypelt was dropping hints for him, so I'm sure it won't be long before he comes to his senses."

There was something about romance that unnerved Leafpool. If Brambleclaw truly had intentions of courting her sister, the brunette would see less and less of the person she never had to intimately share with anyone. She couldn't push down the fear that she would no longer be the most person in her sister's life.  _If I'm not the most important person in Squirrelflight's life, then who's would I be?_ This instability was unsettling for her. She spent countless nights pacing, dreading the moment that Squirrelflight would be moving on without her. She knew that she was overreacting, but the hormones racing through her veins quickly did away with the rationality of her mind.

Then, on the topic of romance, she began to question Cinderpelt's status as single. At her age, many aristocrats were married and carrying their second—if not third—child. "I heard she was one of the best doctors in the Empire. People asked for her services far and wide, but one day, she announced that she wasn't going to be a doctor anymore." Squirrelflight frowned thoughtfully. "They say that she quit being a medical doctor because papa asked her to consider becoming a tutor for us instead. But why would she do that? She was famous—everyone needed her."

"Well maybe she was tired of being needed," Leafpool offered quietly. "Maybe she just wanted to be wanted."

"But why for papa? She could've easily gone to Rushtail or Larkwing if they asked for her."

"I think she feels like she owes father something. After all, he was had been a beacon of light for her after her…accident." It was difficult to refer to Cinderpelt's disability as anything other than an accident. It had been a touchy subject ever since they were young. Supposedly, the gray-haired doctor had been taking a morning ride when something startled her horse. Thrown from her mare's back, Cinderpelt had been lying, dazed on the ground as her horse reared back and stamped down, crushing her owner's leg. Cinderpelt had been their age at that time and had shared Squirrelflight's dream of fighting for the Empire if a conflict was ever to arise. Those dreams of fighting alongside the defenders of her nation were crushed alongside her leg.

Yellowfang had been the one to pull the disabled teenager from her depression. She had been the first one to tell Cinderpelt to stop wallowing in self-pity and stand again.  _"And if you can't stand on your own, you can be damn certain that there are people waiting to catch you when you fall."_  From there on, Cinderpelt had turned away from her impossible dream of the war front and turned to domestic affairs. Under Yellowfang's careful guidance and Firestar's undying support, the gray-haired teenager flourished, easily becoming one of the most well-known doctors in the Empire. Before long, Cinderpelt became an international superstar.

"She was broken for a long time," Leafpool whispered softly.  _And I want to find someone to save her again._  Even after all this time, the gray-haired woman still didn't seem as if she had accepted her disability. "We should find someone for her."

"I'm not sure if papa would be particularly happy about that," Squirrelflight objected. "After all, he sees her like a daughter." A giddy smile crossed the redhead's face. "Like  _our_  sister. Speaking of butting into other people's business, did you know that Crowfeather proposed to Feathertail?" The green-eyed teenager hissed excitedly. "They're  _engaged_!"

The first jolt of shock was expected. Fifteen was a very young age to get engaged, and although Feathertail was already eighteen, Leafpool couldn't help but feel that they were rushing into it. She hadn't heard of any courting between the two and despite her sister's excitement, a wave of disappointment washed over the brunette. For some reason, she expected him to have thought things out a little more.  _I suppose love can alter the way people think_ , she sighed inwardly. Either way, she would be happy for them.

The second tremor of shock as the reality set in was laced with betrayal and jealousy. A heavy feeling settled in Leafpool's heart as she tried to comprehend the uncomfortable twist in her stomach at the news of Crowfeather's engagement. It nipped at her heels irritatingly, distracting her from her studies and making her shift restlessly in any silent moment. It only became worse at dinnertime, when Squirrelflight congratulated Graystripe and announced that her two friends were being married. "I hope she'll ask me to be a bridesmaid. I'll even wear one of those annoying corsets to do it!" Everyone at the dinner table except Leafpool had snorted at the redhead's words.

When desert was being served, the brunette became aware of a pair of eyes burning a hole into the side of her head. As if stung, Leafpool's head snapped up to see Cinderpelt gazing at her with an indescribable expression on her face. But just as quickly as she had met her tutor's blue eyes, the gray-eyed woman turned her eyes away to study the cake before her, as if she hadn't been staring. It unnerved Leafpool, but it was the least of her worries. Littlecloud frequently requested to have her accompany him in his rounds at the marketplace to provide medical services to the less fortunate, so her time with the other tutors was significantly diminished.

When Mothwing took over Mudpelt's position as the doctor of Riverside, it had led to an uproar in the medicinal community. Many in the Starreign wing protested, arguing that only physicians with a connection with Starreign were allowed to hold a title of a house's doctor. Opponents said otherwise—that it was finally time for merit over privilege. The only thing that the two groups agreed on, however, was that the inexperienced blonde should  _not_  hold that much power in a house. By holding the title of Riverside's doctor, Mothwing had power and precedence over treatment and even the decisions that head of the house made.

It was a terrifying ordeal. Cinderpelt stood between the two groups—her loyalty to Starreign protesting to Mothwing's new title and her sense of moral justice arguing for the other side. The gray-haired woman spent days going around the Empire, trying to convince everyone to come to a compromise. Mothwing would not be allowed to claim her title as Riverside's doctor until she was deemed experienced enough by Willowpelt's advisory board—which held a neutral point through this debate—and in the meantime, a doctor would be assigned to Riverside to oversee the blonde's training. Of course, this compromise was still being debated heavily by the doctor council and there was yet to reach any agreement.

Then there was the conflict with Ashfur and Brambleclaw. Ashfur, who had visited Zephyra manor as a child, became infatuated with Squirrelflight. He often did whatever he could to take the redhead's attention away from Brambleclaw, who, according to Tawnypelt, had yet to realize his feelings for Squirrelflight. The redhead, being the proud, stubborn teenager she was, grew frustrated with the brunet and often turned to Ashfur out of frustration. Of course, this led to more confusion, jealousy, and stalemate than ever before. Firestar, who wasn't taking Ashfur's advances on his daughter very kindly, was also growing more impatient with Brambleclaw.

Leafpool trembled under the pressure, feeling overwhelmed as her sister, Mothwing, and Littlecloud turned to her for assistance. She endured many sleepless nights, pacing the halls and taking to cleanliness to a "t". She snapped at her tutors when they suggested an easy day and roamed the manor with a dark aura that quickly left servants trembling in her presence. This continued on for a few weeks before the brunette promptly passed out in the middle of a meal from too many sleepless nights and towering workloads.

When she woke the next day, she felt like a broken record—scratched and overused to the point of being unrecognizable. She began secluding herself in her room, ignoring her family as they each took turns begging her to come out by her door. She took to staring out the window, at her sketchbooks, and the ceiling. Time was an entity unfamiliar to her. There was almost always food waiting outside of her door and she left her bedroom only to relieve herself in the restroom. After seven days of repetitive nothingness, she woke from a troubled sleep to see that Cinderpelt had kicked her door in.

"That's it," the gray-haired woman informed the brunette, throwing the covers from over Leafpool's body. "Get up. We're going out today."

* * *

Third Person – Cinderpelt

It had taken her a total of five weeks to realize how tightly the wire had wound around Leafpool's sanity. She had noticed a slight disturbance in the brunette's concentration when Squirrelflight announced that Feathertail and Crowfeather were engaged. She had seen Leafpool's fingers shake with exhaustion after hours of running around the Empire with Littlecloud. She had observed the rigidness of the brunette's smile as she allowed Squirrelflight and Mothwing alternate and take turns leaning on her. A part of Cinderpelt's mind told her that Leafpool was at a delicate age, one where she should be nurtured as opposed to challenged. But after years of working under an unforgiving and strict Yellowfang, she had learned to ignore the voice of reason in her head. What seems impossible will always be possible if viewed examined in a different way.

So when Leafpool had locked herself in her room and refused to leave for a week, Cinderpelt realized that she had waited too long to act. She should've noticed how the brunette's breath quickened slightly and how her movements became more agitated whenever Squirrelflight or Mothwing was around. She should've noticed how distracted Leafpool was during their lessons and how her temper had grown to rival Dustpelt's. She should've noticed all the little things that resembled the high pitched ringing noise a wire would make just before it snapped under pressure. Leafpool was being pulled apart in two different directions and had been too selfless to notice.

When the seventh day came to greet Cinderpelt, she realized that Leafpool was stuck in limbo, unable to step away from her troubles or stride confidently past her concerns. Quickly making up her mind, the gray-haired doctor limped over to the brunette's door and promptly kicked it down. It had taken her quite a lot of effort and she bit her lip to stop the grimace of pain that threatened to come across her face. Limping rather heavily into Leafpool's room, she ripped the covers off the teenager and gave her a hard look. "Get up. We're going out today."

It was almost alarming how obedient the brunette was, even in her dazed state of mind. It was something that came out of years of complete obedience and submission. Despite being one of the most talented doctor-in-trainings that Cinderpelt had ever had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with, Leafpool had very little pride for what she accomplished. She accepted compliments with a shy smile, but never allowed the satisfied feeling to sink into her skin. A doctor's life was a road of selflessness, Cinderpelt thought, but it was also one of pride. A doctor was a person who could break someone into pieces but sew another back together.

As she dragged the brunette down the staircase with her, Cinderpelt curtly informed Sandstorm and Firestar that she would be borrowing their daughter for the week. "Although I'm more than willing to spend my savings on her, I would appreciate it if you allowed your daughter some of her own spending freedom." Firestar had practically thrown a bag of coins at the gray-haired tutor at her words as Sandstorm ushered the two of them out of the manor. The thankful glint in the auburn-haired woman's eyes was enough to tell Cinderpelt that nobody had been expecting the brunette to break down as suddenly as she did.

Throughout her life, Cinderpelt realized, Leafpool had acted as an anchor in her family. She was the one that Squirrelflight confided in, the one who obeyed her parents' commands, and encouraged acts of chivalry between the aristocrats and their servants. Today was the day that she would find an anchor to tie herself to, the gray-haired tutor decided. Today was the day that Leafpool learned how to share her burden with others.

By the time that they had settled down into their carriage, the brunette's eyes had focused slightly and the dazed look was slowly leaving her gaze. Taking it as a good sign, Cinderpelt squeezed Leafpool's hand as their groom started up the horses. "Where are we going?"

"Lilystone," she replied calmly. "I have a few errands to run, but I also have someone I want you to meet." Immediately, the brunette's eyes sharpened in interest. Mentally patting herself on the back, Cinderpelt shifted until she was comfortable and leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

There were many things she wished to share with Leafpool, especially after hearing that the brunette had already visited where Starreign and Starclan overlapped in her dreams. However, Yellowfang advised her against it, stating that Starreign had different plans for the brunette. "It will only hurt her to remain in the past," the graying blonde had told Cinderpelt. "She will only be broken by the history she has left behind. It is best to keep this past hidden away from her." Her amber eyes narrowed in warning. "Do  _not_  provoke any locked memories. Sometimes, it is best to leave things as they are."

Cinderpelt was one of the few doctors who had access to the memories of their past lives. Supposedly, there was some sort of selection ceremony that the Starreign spirits held to determine who would act as mediators in the Empire. The mediators were expected to use the knowledge they accumulated over two lifetimes to advise and oversee the lives of those whose memories would not be unlocked. She had been specifically assigned to care for Leafpool—a responsibility that she had ignored for many years.

The brunette's dormant memories have most likely been reawakened by Crowfeather and Feathertail's engagement. Cinderpelt had learned the hard way that sentiments of the past life haunted the actions of those alive today. After all, she hadn't expected Spottedleaf, a fellow mediator, to lose herself in her past life. In the days approaching her death, the amber-eyed doctor had grown obsessed with Firestar and memories of the past. There were times that she had slipped information from their former lives, much to the horror of the other mediators and Starreign. When mediator council had finally decided on sealing Spottedleaf's past and wiping her memories through the spirits of Starreign, the amber-eyed woman was already gone.

 _"I fear for Leafpool, Cinderpelt,"_  Yellowfang had murmured in their most recent meeting. Her graying tail swiped back and forth agitatedly.  _"She and Spottedleaf had a rather traumatizing encounter. Bluestar and I weren't close enough to hear what was exchanged early on in their conversation, but they were most definitely provoking each other."_  A haunted look crossed Yellowfang's features.  _"You must never let her relapse into her past,"_  she hissed urgently.  _"We have worked too hard and too long to let her live a different life. She deserves more than what the past has given her. She needs to know what love is."_  Her amber eyes locked onto Cinderpelt.  _"We_ all _need to know what love is."_

 _What do I need to do, Yellowfang?_  The gray-haired woman thought irritably. As usual, the Starreign spirits had to be mysterious and talk in riddles and whatnot. They were always vague with their advice and they loved to beat around a topic until every tangent source was depleted.  _Is it so hard just to say it outright?_  When the carriage slowed to a stop, Cinderpelt blinked as Leafpool scooted over to the door. Shuffling out after her, the blue-eyed woman smiled at the groomsman who helped her out. A faint blush adorned his cheeks and he tipped his hat at her with a shy smile before rushing back to the front of the carriage. He would return within a few hours to bring them back to Zephyra manor.

Cinderpelt turned to see the corners of Leafpool's lips twitch slightly as the brunette gazed at the exchange between the two adults. The gray-haired woman cocked an eyebrow at her apprentice and huffed at her. "What?" she complained.

"He likes you," Leafpool whispered mischievously, as if pleased by this secret. Cinderpelt glanced over her shoulder at the brown-eyed groomsman just in time to see him doing the same. A bright red flush decorated his face as he and the horses hurried away, probably to stop at some local inn so he would be able to have some time to explore Lilystone on his own.  _He's new, but Firestar seemed to like him._  The gray-haired woman thought. Turning back to Leafpool, the blue-eyed woman scowled to see the sappy grin on her apprentice's face. Inwardly, however, her heart warmed at the smile. The brunette finally looked relaxed.

"Don't be silly," Cinderpelt chastised, swatting at Leafpool's bottom to get the two of them moving. "Let him decide his feelings for himself. After all, the only person who can be sure of his feelings is himself."


	8. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leafpool visits the town of Lilystone and makes an invaluable friend. The only problem is, Crowfeather doesn't see him as 'just a friend'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos!
> 
> Thanks to Leticia, the Pain behind the Mask, and Ripplesteam of Treeclan for understanding! I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well. Warm fuzzies to Big Bang, too, for commenting on this story!
> 
> To Flowwery Love: I should've made this clear from the start, but my goal is to update this story every Tuesday. While I'm flattered that you want the next chapter of this story, I'd prefer it if you didn't pressure me to put out the next chapter. These chapters are only going to get lengthier from here on out, so it'll take a lot longer for me to write and edit them. However, I will try to stay true to my "once-a-week" update.

Third Person – Leafpool

Lilystone was a bustling, lively city with beautiful streets and friendly strangers. As with any market center, there were the usual barterers, pick-pockets, and thieves, but Cinderpelt was experienced in maneuvering through the crowds. Rather, she was so well-known that the people around her would create a bubble of space so she could pass easily. Leafpool glanced into the crowd and realized that a few grateful smiles were meant for her. Relatives and friends of former patients called out to her hospitably, asking questions about when she and Littlecloud would provide their medicinal services and what to do for small, health-related issues.

When she was nearly overwhelmed by the gratitude of the people around her, Cinderpelt's hand rested securely on her shoulder and steered the flustered brunette away from the enthusiastic crowds. The two of them headed into a familiar shop—an herb shop that many doctors frequented for the supplies they couldn't gather at home. While Cinderpelt exchanged greetings with the shop keeper, Leafpool stared out the windows, watching as various merchants threw out the prices of their items. One woman caught her eye in particular, gem-encrusted and deafening as she waved over wandering shoppers. Letting out a soft snort of amusement at the obvious look of disappointment on the woman's face when a potential customer was scared off, Leafpool turned to see that Cinderpelt was waiting for her.

"See anything you like?" When the brunette shook her head, the older woman led her out of the shop, throwing parting words over her shoulder at the herb seller. The two of them headed further down the street to gaze at the various products the merchants were selling.

* * *

 

Third Person – Cinderpelt

Cinderpelt examined the smoky, green and black shawl before her, testing the fabric thoughtfully between her fingers. She ignored the babbling merchant beside her, tuning out his memorized sales pitch on the quality of his items and the affordability of his goods.  _I've been thinking about getting something for Sandstorm's birthday,_  the gray-haired woman thought. Satisfied, she turned to the man beside her with a wry smile. "Four emras, please," he asked cheerfully.  _Four emras for such a thin shawl?_ Cinderpelt frowned and cocked her head at the merchant, studying the hesitant gleam in his eye critically.

"I hardly believe this shawl is worth four emras," she informed him coolly.

"You're right," he agreed hastily, "it's worth five."  _The nerve!_  Although she wasn't unfamiliar with bartering merchants, this was the first time that one had dared to increase the price on her. Setting her jaw distastefully, she returned the scarf to its place and hobbled away, ignoring his confused pleas to return.  _Young merchants_ , Cinderpelt thought angrily.  _Always thinking they can get away with saying something like that._  She paused and glared over her shoulder at the disheartened seller.  _You don't win a customer over when you imply that you're selling your goods for much cheaper than what they are worth!_

Beside her, Leafpool hovered concernedly, uncomfortable at the heated look in her mentor's eyes. "The shawl wasn't even that nice," the brunette murmured quietly. The gray-haired woman's hackles fell immediately at the helpful tone in her apprentice's voice. A small smile touched her lips as Cinderpelt gazed at Leafpool.

"You're right," she agreed. "That's why we'll be going somewhere else," she threw another sour look over her shoulder, "and get your mother something  _much nicer_  than that flimsy piece of cloth!" The brunette next to her started uncomfortably, but Cinderpelt ruffled her hair fondly. The two of them continued on, listening to the bickering customers as they squawked over merchants' goods.

"Flowers! Would you like to buy some flowers?" The gray-haired woman's head followed Leafpool's as both of them turned to see a girl and her younger brother standing at a corner with a basket of flowers in their arms. The two of them watched as the girl reached out to a passerby before being roughly shoved back in place. Leafpool turned her gaze to Cinderpelt, her large, amber eyes glowing with sympathy. An affectionate smile crossed the gray-haired woman's face as she gazed down at the brunette.  _That's the Leafpool I know,_  she thought in relief.  _Always putting others before herself._

"Come on," Cinderpelt said, tugging Leafpool away from the sellers. At the distraught glimmer in her amber eyes, the older woman snorted in amusement before giving her a mischievous smile. "I've got a plan," she hissed softly. She drew Leafpool into a bakery and stood back as the brunette flew to the shelves.  _"She'll make a good doctor, Cinderpelt," Littlecloud murmured. His light blue eyes glimmered softly at her. She shifted uncomfortably—Yellowfang had informed her of his past sentiments. Had those feelings carried onto this life? "Leafpool was born to be a medicine cat, and now…she was reborn to be a doctor. Someone to care when there's no one who's willing to love."_

Cinderpelt quietly paid the baker a reba, glancing tenderly at Leafpool, who bounced impatiently at her side. When her change was returned to her, the two of them left the shop in search of the flower-sellers. Nudging the brunette, Cinderpelt watched as Leafpool rushed toward the girl and her brother, thrusting her bag of bread in haste. The two siblings looked conflicted at first, but when a bread roll was placed into the brother's hands, all complaints were dropped. He tore into the bread, crying as he placed it to his mouth. Leafpool gently wiped the brother's eyes before handing the rest of the bag to the sister.

Deciding it was a good time to step in, Cinderpelt hobbled over. Wrapping her change in a handkerchief, she passed it onto the older of the two with a smile. The flower-seller gazed at the gray-haired woman gratefully, her hands closing tightly around the bundled coins. "How can we ever thank you?" She choked out, clutching the handkerchief to her chest. Leafpool glanced uneasily at Cinderpelt before trying to reply. Hearing the beginnings of the memorized doctoring speech she often heard Littlecloud murmur to his patients, the blue-eyed woman intervened.

"Why don't we take some of your flowers, then?" She offered helpfully. "They are beautiful." The sister thrust the flowers forward, babbling about how they should take as many as they like. Chuckling at the flustered expression on the girl's face, Cinderpelt watched as Leafpool picked out a handful of flowers.  _Meadowsweet. Cornflowers._ The brunette was most likely thinking of Graystripe, the blue-eyed woman decided. After all, those flowers had been Silverstream's favorites.

"Starreign bless you," the younger boy mumbled around a mouthful of bread. His sister shot him a critical look and both the aristocrats chuckled at his words.

"And may Starreign's great tidings fall on your shoulders for the days to come." Leafpool bowed to them, startling everyone. Pride flowered in Cinderpelt's heart as she gazed at the brunette. A true doctor cared little about social differences and boundaries.  _A true doctor does not fear to extend his services to anyone._

Cinderpelt rested a hand on Leafpool's shoulder, startling the brunette out of her bow. "We should be moving on," the gray-haired woman murmured softly. She smiled gently at the sibling pair. "Thank you for the flowers," she said pleasantly as she led Leafpool away. When they were out of hearing range, the brunette leaned closer to her mentor.

"Thank you, Cinderpelt."

"Nonsense." The gray-haired woman waved her away. "Now why don't we go find something to get for your mother and father? Their anniversary is approaching rather quickly, isn't it?" At the excited expression on the brunette's face, Cinderpelt silently tucked away lingering sentiments at the mention of Firestar.

It had startled her to learn that her feelings toward the redhead mirrored the same longing she held for him when they were cats. The only difference was that this time around, she knew how petty her attraction to him was. He was an idol, an example—someone to look up to and admire. In addition to that, there was no way to rival the love that Sandstorm held for him. Cinderpelt's infatuation quickly died away when she saw how happy Firestar had been at Sandstorm's side when Spottedleaf slipped out of his life. There were momentary flares of jealousy of what could've been from time to time, but for the most part, they stayed at bay. It soothed Cinderpelt to know that her past life was merely a shadow to be remembered as opposed to a shadow to be feared.

"In a few weeks' time," Leafpool replied. "But I don't want to go back to the plaza." She glanced warily over her shoulder. "I can't say the merchants there are particularly agreeable."

"Tell me about it," Cinderpelt snorted, her mind immediately going to the man who tried to sell her the black-and-green shawl. "But I have a different place in mind." A wry smile crossed her face at the thought of her student meeting Whiteear's.  _I have a feeling the two of them will get along_ very  _well._

 

* * *

Third Person –Leafpool

She followed Cinderpelt to a small shop on a busy corner of Lilystone. She tilted her head up just in time to catch the name of the shop.  _The Red Sapphire_. She frowned thoughtfully.  _I wonder what they mean by that._  True to its name, it was a jewelry shop, filled with glistening trinkets and glowing metals. However, the goods were much more pleasing to the eye than the chunky jewels the woman merchant had been trying to sell in the plaza. Leafpool relaxed at the tranquil, melodic feel of the shop, looking up lazily when a bell rang to make her presence known.

The sound of footsteps grew louder until a white-haired man pushed through two swinging doors. "Welcome, welcome!" He greeted, wiping his hands on a cloth before the grin on his face widened significantly. "Cinderpelt! It's been a while!" Pushing open a small door on the side of the counter, he opened his arms to the gray-haired woman. Leafpool watched as the two embraced and the man press two light kisses on either side of Cinderpelt's cheeks.

"Whiteear," Cinderpelt laughed, giving him a small squeeze before stepping back. "This is Firestar's daughter—Leafpool." She glanced fondly over her shoulder at the brunette. "She's studying to be a doctor—and a mighty fine one at that." Leafpool felt a small burst of pride fill her chest at Cinderpelt's words. The gray-haired woman rarely praised anyone. "Ah, good afternoon, Featherpelt. I see you're doing well."

" _Bonjour_ ," a young man greeted, his long blond locks swaying as he took up the counter. " _Oui_ , all is well."  _A foreigner_ , Leafpool noted with surprise. His accent and his choice of greeting spoke of a neighboring nation whose diplomats occasionally visited Zephyra manor. After all, Firestar's house was one of six houses that tended to international affairs above domestics. The blond man tucked a few strands of wavy hair behind his ear before smiling charmingly at the two aristocrats. " _Mon belle_ , welcome to our shop," he murmured, addressing Leafpool. Her cheeks colored immediately at the endearment and Cinderpelt chuckled softly at her reaction to his words.

"Don't try to sweet talk my student!" She chastised playfully.

"It is in his  _blood_ *," Whiteear sniffed dramatically. The two adults burst into laughter and Leafpool smiled shyly at the joke. Featherpelt seemed faintly bemused and exasperated by their antics and shook his head lightly at them. "Anyway, it is so nice to finally meet you, Leafpool." The shopkeeper extended a hand to her. "I can finally put a face to the girl that Cinderpelt's been telling me about!" His green eyes twinkled at her. "Anyway, what brings you here today? Running business with the herbs, as usual?"

"No, we're thinking of picking out a few things for Firestar and the others," Cinderpelt explained. "And Leafpool's been feeling a bit down in the dumps lately, so I decided that fresh air would be a good change for her." She smiled wryly at Featherpelt, "I also wanted her to finally meet the two of you," she said. Leaning in slightly, she hissed, "Between you and me, I've been hoping to get her a few more friends."

"Cinderpelt!" Again, the adults' laughter filled the air as the brunette's cheeks flushed indignantly. Although her list of friends was depressingly short, she saw no reason for the blue-eyed woman to interfere in her relationships.

"A bit down in the dumps, eh?" Whiteear mused aloud. "I think I have just the thing! Featherpelt, go and bring out the special inventory." The young blond raised an eyebrow at his mentor's words, but disappeared through the swinging doors without a sound. When the blond was out of hearing range, the green-eyed man leaned forward and winked at Leafpool. "Here's a secret—I've been dying to get him a new friend as well." He glanced over his shoulder with a mischievous expression on his face. "Don't tell him I said that, though."

Leafpool giggled—Whiteear had turned the shop atmosphere from awkward to relaxed in a matter of seconds. It was understandable why Cinderpelt was so fond of him. "Alright," she agreed excitedly, thrilled at the thought of hiding a secret, regardless of how trivial it was. She looked down shyly at her hands, only to have a flash of silver catch her eye. Entranced, she leaned forward, gazing at an alluring piece of jewelry.

"Leafpool? You see something you like?" Nodding absentmindedly, the brunette made room for Cinderpelt as the two of them gazed at the necklace. Interested, Whiteear took Featherpelt's place behind the counter, following the aristocrats' eyes.

The necklace was beautiful. A large, amber-gold stone about the size of the top of her index finger hung from a delicate silver chain. Brown and black feathers decorated the sides of the jewel, framing it with their slightly curved forms. Whiteear leaned back slightly and gazed thoughtfully at the jewel. "I can't say that necklace is very valuable," he murmured slowly. "If you're interested in topaz, I would suggest you consider the blue kind. Amber and brown are not very popular shades."

There was a clattering noise behind the shopkeeper and Featherpelt reappeared, holding a locked case of jewelry in his arms. "Here is the special inventory," he announced. Setting it down on the counter beside Whiteear, he smiled encouragingly as Leafpool glanced over at the newly revealed jewels. Her eyes stung slightly at the brightness of the jewels and she gave him a small, uncertain smile before turning her attention back to the silver necklace.

"If  _beauty is in the eye of the believer_ , then I believe volubility is the same," Cinderpelt told Whiteear as she continued to examine the topaz. Featherpelt, interested to see what was at the center of their attention, hovered nearby. "I think it would look beautiful on you, Leafpool. Can we get a rundown, Whiteear?"

"Of course. The chain is made of iron and is plated with silver. The feathers are hand-crafted and painted with thin layers of paint. The amber-gold topaz in the center is circle-cut and was carefully set into its silver frame." Another frown crossed his face. "Are you sure you want this necklace?" He pressed. "The creator of this piece is neither popular nor from a famous line of artists, so the price of this work is very low. Although it is beautiful, the lower-grade quality of the materials will require frequent care and polishing."

"That would be the least of our concerns with all the events happening right now," Cinderpelt snorted, waving her friend off. "We'll take it. As for polishing, it's fine you teach Leafpool how to take care of it, right?" At the slightly uncomfortable expression on Whiteear's face, the blue-eyed woman made another offer. "Or we can come back every few months to get it worked on. After all, that gives us the perfect excuse to visit you, right?" The shopkeeper still seemed unconvinced that the necklace was a good fit for the two aristocrats, but a small smile crossed his face nonetheless. Glancing back at Leafpool, Cinderpelt nodded encouragingly. "Why don't you pick out some things for your parents?" She suggested. "We might as well look for something that Squirrelflight since we're already here."

"I can help the young miss while the two of you talk," Featherpelt spoke up as Whiteear began to wrap the topaz necklace. The blue-eyed woman blinked gratefully at the blond and turned to her friend, easily falling into a conversation with him. Leafpool inclined her head at the young man slightly before turning her attention to the jewels in the glass casing. Skipping over the bright diamonds and the flashy gemstones, she hovered over a dark, glittering jewel. Immediately, Featherpelt was on the other side of the counter, leaning in slightly to get a better look at what had caught her eye.

"Pyrope Garnet, famous for its dark red color," he murmured when she glanced up at him. "It's not as valuable as a ruby, but it's just as beautiful in my opinion." He cocked his head to the side slightly, studying the necklace. "Tear-shaped, lined with silver plating similar to the one Whiteear wrapped up for you." He pointed to the two tiny emeralds that bordered the garnet. "Although the emeralds increase the value of the piece, the materials used in the necklace make it a much less appealing item."

"It's beautiful," Leafpool whispered softly. Featherpelt glanced over his shoulder at the two chattering adults before leaning in slightly.

"Between you and me,  _ma belle_ ," he whispered softly, "that necklace is one of Whiteear's works." A wry smile crossed his face at her surprise. "We jewelers are known for crafting our own pieces. Although we tend not to sell most of our own products, there are still a few customers who purchase them." A bitter look lingered in his pale blue eyes before disappearing again. "He will most likely discourage you from purchasing his necklace."

"It's very hard to discourage a willing customer," Leafpool replied, smiling gently at him. "I'm more than willing to fight with him for this necklace." She hesitated momentarily before adding, "My sister usually refuses to wear jewelry because she complains that it's too gaudy and flashy." She glanced down fondly at the garnet. "Simplicity suits her best," the brunette murmured. "This necklace would fit her better than the other ones I've seen so far." The tender look that crossed Featherpelt's face took her breath away. A genuine smile touched his lips as he carefully unlocked a glass panel and extracted the garnet necklace from the velveteen base.

"Thank you." He carefully tucked the piece into a snippet of cloth and wrapped it in a lacy handkerchief. "Is there anything else you would like to purchase? I'll wrap this necklace with any others that you like." Leafpool paused, mentally picking out the few people from the household list. Her father, like Squirrelflight, was not one for lavish décor. He would most likely accept jewelry out of kindness, but it would be extremely unlikely that he would ever wear it.  _He'd probably like it if I carved something for him_ , Leafpool decided. He had been awestruck at her most recent present—a painting of their family being surrounded by their staff.

As for her mother, the auburn-haired woman had frequently complained about her excess of jewelry. That didn't stop her from wearing each gift that Firestar had bought her and the tender look in her eyes reminded Leafpool that no present could outweigh those her father gave. "Do you have pocket watches?" She asked as a memory of Graystripe's amber eyes flashed through her head. The gray-haired aristocrat had frequently complained about never knowing the time and always showing up late to gatherings because of it.

"We have a small collection of them," Featherpelt replied, leading her to a small panel of the glass counter. Leafpool examined each watch carefully before deciding that silver would suit the amber-eyed man best. After pointing out her choice, the blond man wrapped the watch and headed back to where Whiteear and Cinderpelt were chatting. Leafpool followed him on the other side of the counter, admiring the fluidity of Featherpelt's movements as he settled both pieces into thick chunks of velvet.

True to the young man's words, the green-eyed man had glanced over and frowned disapprovingly at the sight of his own necklace. Shaking his head, he totaled the final cost before engaging in a rather intense stare-down with Cinderpelt, who insisted on paying the full price. The two adults bickered for a few moments as the two teenagers glanced at each other and chuckled. "They are sweet, no?" Featherpelt cocked his head thoughtfully at the two mentors. "But Whiteear has yet to recover from his widowed heart. I'm afraid he and Cinderpelt can never see one another as anything more than friends." Leafpool felt a twinge of disappointment as she glanced over at the pair. The two of them looked well together, but there was a completely platonic atmosphere surrounding them.

"I want to find someone for her," she admitted. "She's been lonely for so long…I want her to be happy."

" _Oui_." The blond man nodded firmly. "For the seven years that I have known Cinderpelt, she has yet to mention a lover." A mischievous look glimmered in his eyes. "It seems the two of us will have many things to discuss. Especially regarding our dear Cinderpelt." He bowed his head slightly. "I am pleased to be working with you,  _mon belle._ " Leafpool giggled and the two of them looked up just in time to see the adults come to some sort of compromise.

"Three rebas," the blue-eyed woman said firmly, "for three items. That's my last offer."

"These three items do not total to three rebas," Whiteear grumbled. "The necklaces combined barely make two vennas and the value of the watch is one reba." Sighing in defeat, he gave into Cinderpelt's stern look. "Fine. Three rebas." She swatted him fondly and slid three silver coins across the counter, the engraved foxes gleaming in the light.

"You shouldn't sound so reluctant to take my money, Whiteear," she scolded half-heartedly. "You're only cheating yourself in the end."

"There is no cheating when it comes to friends," the green-eyed man shot back weakly, but the battle was won. He handed the wrapped gifts to Cinderpelt carefully before crossing his arms. "The next purchase you make will be free of charge," he grumbled.

"Whiteear!" Exasperation rang through the blue-eyed woman's voice. "Look, why don't you just craft something for me to cover the 'extra' payment?" Letting out a frustrated huff at the displeased expression on Whiteear's face, Cinderpelt's eyes softened slightly. "Whiteear, anything you make me is priceless. Or worth fifty rebas. Make me something that screams  _Cinderpelt_  or…"

"I'm making you engagement rings," the green-eyed man decided suddenly. "No complaints!" he snapped when she opened her mouth to object. "Marriage is not out of the question for you, Missy. Though it is a unity that acts as a double-edged knife, happiness comes to those who endure."

Cinderpelt shook her head in defeat and smiled tiredly at her friend. "I'll try, Whiteear." She paused before adding more quietly, "You know how hard it is for me." Alarmed, Leafpool shot a look at Featherpelt only to meet the same confused look in his blue eyes.

"Love is alien to all those who have yet to experience it," the shopkeeper replied gently, his hard expression softening. "Let yourself fall into it, Cinderpelt. Don't try to resist." Turning his attention to the teenagers, he shot a look at Leafpool that clearly said  _we'll talk about this later_. A small glimmer of hope blossomed in the brunette's chest at the unspoken promise. With three people giving their uttermost effort to find love for Cinderpelt, there was a greater chance that the gray-haired woman's life would finally fall in place.

 

* * *

It was heartbreaking to see how one-sided Astertail's affections were. The brown-haired groom always had a faint, innocent blush on his cheeks whenever he helped Cinderpelt and Leafpool into the carriage for a monthly visit to the Red Sapphire. He would tip his hat to them in flustered excitement, often tripping over himself in the process. Leafpool thought his clumsy gestures were heartwarming, but that hope was often crushed by how the blue-eyed woman distanced herself from the brown-eyed man. Astertail didn't seem to notice, however, as he tended to the two women like a lovesick puppy, running to their side at their every request and always trying to please them in every way.

During her monthly visits to Lilystone, Leafpool and Featherpelt would head to the back of the Red Sapphire to discuss Cinderpelt's unfortunately nonexistent romantic life as Whiteear chatted with the blue-eyed woman. When she slipped away to go to the other shops and stock up on different items, the shopkeeper would slip into the back to join the two teenagers in their discussion. The green-eyed man was wary of Astertail's intentions at first, but after being reassured countless of times of the brunet's innocence, he begrudgingly began to offer advice as to bringing the two together.

Amidst the brewing conflict over Cinderpelt's love life, Leafpool found a small piece of her heart grow increasingly bitter and jealous as the days went on. Her life had returned to being fairly calm after the doctoring council finally decided on what course of action they would take with Mothwing and the house of Riverside, but the frequent visits by Squirrelflight's friends made her anxious and uncomfortable.

Seven months had passed since the announcement of Crowfeather and Feathertail's engagement. During this time, Tawnypelt had begun courting a redheaded aristocrat from the house of Shadowrim while Brambleclaw continued to struggle with his feelings toward Squirrelflight. The green-eyed teenager was quickly growing frustrated with the situation, purposefully turning to Ashfur on multiple occasions to see if she could get a rise out of the brunet. Of course, that bothered her father to no end and this was evident as his glares toward the Herobexy aristocrat grew increasingly venomous.

As for Leafpool, something ugly twisted inside of her whenever Squirrelflight's engaged friends visited. There would always be pinpricks of pain whenever she caught the two teenagers staring at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking or holding hands as they walked. It had been two years since she had last spoken with Crowfeather, and it bothered her that the bond they had forged during Sandstorm and Firestar's conflict was fading. The blue-eyed aristocrat had been a charming, interesting companion and Leafpool often found herself longing for his company to take her focus off of studying.

For Leafpool, entering the fifteenth year of her life seemed far more stressing than when she became fourteen. During one of her discussions with Featherpelt, she realized with a jolt that the sentiments she held toward Crowfeather were far beyond those of a concerned friend. She had nearly broken down on the spot, unable to comprehend how she could possibly long for someone who was already claimed. Although she managed to avoid secluding herself to her room like last time, she had managed to raise a lot of concern from Cinderpelt and the rest of her family as she began to stumble on her studies again.

It was only at night that Leafpool examined the chaotic brewing mass in her heart and let the news sink in. Almost immediately, the rational side of her would stand up, arguing firmly against the nervous, fluttery emotions that flooded her senses at Crowfeather's proximity.  _You barely now him_ , it grumbled pointedly.  _Your attraction is unreasonable and irrational. Remember the love stories that Squirrelflight would always tell you about? Remember the lessons that Cinderpelt taught you? This is a phase you're going through. Your hormones are now in control of your mind. This feeling will pass._

It was only two weeks later before Leafpool felt her walls crumble. Before she could confide in Featherpelt, the door had been pushed open and the familiar ringing of the bell brought the blond man to his feet. " _Bonjour_!" he called out, quickly disappearing through the swinging doors. "How may I help you?"

"We're looking for a ring." Curious, Leafpool wandered toward the voices, pushing her way hesitantly into the front of the shop. She froze a few seconds later as two pairs of eyes turned to meet hers.

 _Oh dear Starreign._  Her breath caught in her breath as she stared at Crowfeather and Feathertail, their shocked expressions matching hers. The silver-haired aristocrat was the first to recover, however, as her surprise quickly faded into friendliness. "Leafpool!" she greeted warmly, a gentle smile crossing her face. A wave of jealousy flooded the brunette's heart as she kept her eyes trained on Feathertail. It was so difficult feel bitter toward such a perfect, loving person. An ugly knot formed in her heart as the Riverside aristocrat leaned forward. "It's been a while," Feathertail murmured. "You've been busy with your studies!"

Leafpool laughed bitterly in her head at the woman's words. She had resorted to her old tactics of avoiding Squirrelflight's friends—hiding out in the library or locking herself in her room. They were all guises so she wouldn't have to see the tenderness of Crowfeather's eyes as he gazed at his fiancée. "I have," she lied smoothly. "Congratulations on your engagement." In her attempts to avoid the two aristocrats at all costs, she had failed to formally give them her congratulations. "Are you picking out wedding rings today?"

"Yes." It was Crowfeather who answered this time, his blue eyes trained on Leafpool. She felt the smile on her face freeze and she turned her head away.

"Then you've come to the right place," she heard herself say. "Whiteear and Featherpelt have some of the best rings I've ever seen."

"Really?" Feathertail's eyes widened in interest. "Then do you mind helping us choose a ring? I think something simple would be nice, but Crowfeather here wants to get something extravagant." She tossed an affectionate look at the blue-eyed aristocrat by her side. Staring through the glass counter, Leafpool could see him squeeze his fiancée's hand gently. Another ugly knot formed in her throat at their display of affection.  _She means a lot to him_ , she thought numbly. He had always been a very private person when it came to emotion. "Always trying to spoil me," Feathertail whispered fondly. "I don't need to be pampered!"

"But I want to pamper you," Crowfeather rumbled. Turning his attention to Featherpelt, who was waiting patiently behind the counter, he gave the blond man a curt nod. "We'll need a bit of assistance choosing a ring."

"Of course. It is completely understandable for you to be concerned with the perfection of the ring." Featherpelt's smile was tight as he bowed his head to the Ebenwing aristocrat. Leafpool felt her heart tighten in a mixture of anger and disbelief. How could Crowfeather treat the blond man like that? A small voice in the back of her mind quickly reminded her that in the grand scheme of things, Crowfeather was an aristocrat and Featherpelt was a lowly peasant. Those social differences spoke volumes in terms of giving and receiving respect.  _You and Cinderpelt are the only aristocrats that treat him as an equal_ , the voice sighed. "Might I suggest one of our beautiful sapphire rings? They will most definitely bring out the beauty of the bride's eyes."

Featherpelt carefully picked out two rings, bringing them to rest on the counter so the two aristocrats could examine them. Leafpool felt a stab of jealousy as she took in the beauty of the silver bands. The bride's ring was beautiful—shallow grooves decorating the surface of the band as slender, curved silver wove gently around a glowing sapphire. Three pale blue diamonds followed the silver curve, each slightly larger than the last. The groom's ring lacked the jewels featured on the complimentary band but had a flare of elegance to it with the same shallow grooves. "This is one of the more popular designs of one of our jewelers," Featherpelt explained, "its delicate grooves and its beautiful gemstone make it a very valuable pair."

"The cost?"

"Its original price is one reba, but since you two seem to be friends of Leafpool, I'll drop the price down to seven vennas." The brunette flinched inwardly at the dramatic drop of price. Even with the most frequent and regular customers at the Red Sapphire didn't receive such a large discount.  _What are you plotting, Featherpelt?_

"It is beautiful," Feathertail murmured softly, a small frown decorating her face. Leafpool saw the telltale signs of a rejection as the blond man's smile grew stiffer. "But I think it's too expensive."  _Even after that outrageous discount?_  The brunette thought wildly.  _Feathertail, you and Crowfeather belong to two of the richest houses in the Empire. How in the world can this be too expensive for someone—especially you?_  Leafpool knew she was putting out unnecessary judgment, but there was a crack in Feathertail's façade. Waves of uneasiness radiated off of her as if she didn't want to be here.  _But why? She should be happy—her wedding's just around the corner. Shouldn't she be the happiest one in this shop?_

"Why don't we get these ones instead?" The Riverside aristocrat pointed to a pair of golden rings, the bride's ring decorated with a glittering emerald. They were amazingly dull compared the pair that Featherpelt had suggested, but what concerned Leafpool most was that the ring wouldn't be complimentary to Feathertail's appearance. Her blue eyes would contrast with the green gemstone and her silver hair wouldn't necessarily compliment the golden hue of the bands. It wouldn't look well with Crowfeather either, with his dark hair and icy blue eyes. As the brunette continued to look at the pair of emerald rings, she couldn't comprehend why Feathertail insisted on this pair in particular. The silver ones Featherpelt offered would suit the couple much better.

"A wonderful choice as well." Leafpool tried not to wince at the dull, fake sound of Featherpelt's voice. He looked determined not to lose another sale, but there was an uncomfortable gleam in his blue eyes. It would damage the shop's reputation if anyone was to criticize the choice of rings. After all, it would be on the shopkeeper's head not to encourage the ring set that best complimented the bride and groom.  _Why of all days did Whiteear have to step out?_  The brunette thought helplessly. "Five vennas for that set."

"Feathertail?" Crowfeather murmured, inclining his head toward his fiancée.

"I think that's the one," the blue-eyed girl affirmed, looking strangely satisfied with her choice. A conflicted emotion crossed her betrothed's eyes and he glanced back at the silver rings, as if on the verge of overriding her decision.  _So I'm not the only one who's bothered._  Crowfeather looked as if he was about to say something, but he quickly turned his head away as Featherpelt slowly began wrapping the emerald rings. Feathertail smiled warmly at Leafpool, her blue eyes disarming as they caught her gaze. "It was nice to see you again," she said cheerily. "We'll send over news about the date and destination of the wedding soon."

With a jolt, Leafpool realized that she hadn't offered any assistance in choosing a ring. Cheeks flaming with embarrassment, she forced a mechanical smile onto her face. "That sounds great," she replied stiffly as Featherpelt handed Crowfeather the rings. Casually, the Ebenwing aristocrat wrapped an arm around his fiancée before leaving the shop, his blue eyes burning across Leafpool's face as they exited. It wasn't until the door closed behind the two that Featherpelt began to act.

"—Come with me." He grabbed the brunette roughly and dragged her to the back of the shop. Dazed, Leafpool allowed him to manhandle her until they were standing by the storage. He turned his piercing gaze on her, a glimmer of irritation in his pale blue eyes. "Speak." He grit out, putting his hands on his hips. She blinked at him for a second before everything came pouring out.

 

* * *

She wasn't sure how much time had passed. All she could remember was crying and blabbering half-coherently while Featherpelt nodded at her. At the very end of it all, she was wrapped in his arms, his hand running up and down her back soothingly. He cooed softly to her as her sniffles slowly faded away and she was left feeling warm, numb, and stuffy. It was only after she had quieted that he allowed her to pull away and blow her nose.

Leafpool rubbed angrily at her swelling eyes, knowing there was little she could do to hide that she was crying from Cinderpelt. Her eyes would stay red for hours even if she had only cried a few tears. Just as she reached up to rub at them again, Featherpelt's hands caught hers and she looked up blearily at him. " _Ma chérie_ ," he murmured softly, tracing his thumb under her eyes gently, "you have suffered for a long time." His gaze hardened slightly as he gazed at her. "You should've spoken to Cinderpelt first," he scolded lightly. "After all, she is a Starreign doctor. You should've told her about those dreams first."

 _Ah,_  Leafpool thought distractedly,  _I told him about Spottedleaf._  She chuckled bitterly at herself.  _What else did I spill out?_  "But I was not aware of your conflict with the young…Crowfeather. Had I known…I would not have given them such a generous discount." He clicked his tongue irritably.

"They didn't buy the ring anyway," Leafpool chuckled, feeling her mood lift already. It was amazing how at ease she felt with Featherpelt. When he cupped her cheek, she leaned into his hand, reveling at how comforting his touch was. His cool fingertips tended to her swollen eyelids, soothing them with fleeting strokes. She frowned disappointedly when he pulled away, but it was quickly replaced with curiosity when he began rummaging through a small drawer. He turned back to her with a small box, offering to her shyly.

"What's this? A sympathy gift?" She teased lightly.

"It's actually a late birthday present," he admitted with a small blush on his cheeks. "I hadn't finished it in time." She laughed at the small grumble in his voice and gently lifted the cover to uncover a beautiful bracelet. Her breath caught slightly at the array of tiny brown and gold topazes hanging from the silver chain. There were small intricate designs weaved around each jewel, the thin metal glistening in the light.  _This must've taken forever,_  she thought disbelievingly.

"Featherpelt, I…" She trailed off when he lifted a hand to silence her.

"Do you remember that necklace you bought seven months ago?" He asked her gently.

"Yes, I—"  _I wear it all the time._  It was her go-to piece of jewelry, both at social gatherings or dinner parties. She had received several compliments regarding how well it worked with her eyes. It was her treasure.

"It was the first piece I've ever sold," he whispered. Leafpool cocked her head to the side in confusion.  _First piece?_  She echoed.  _But he so experienced with handling customers…_ then it clicked. Her jaw dropped at she stared at him, overwhelmed by surprise. He smiled tenderly at her, his eyes glowing with appreciation. "The way you looked at it made me feel so…loved. So wanted." His eyes fluttered shut and Leafpool realized he was reliving the memory. "It's hard for artists to come out with art that people are actually willing to buy," he murmured. "Many people give up before anyone really takes a good look at their work. I thought I was never going to have a piece of mine sold. After all, the garnet you bought was the fifth piece of jewelry that Whiteear was able to sell of his own collection—and he's been in this business for twenty years.

"I wanted to make a complimentary piece to the necklace," he continued. "When I was trying to decide on what jewel to use, I thought of your eyes." He gazed at her thoughtfully. "But then I realized that topaz fit you best."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just as there is the language of wine, flowers, and birds, there's a language to gemstones. The central message to Topaz is loyalty and success. The gold topaz in particular means self-power and confidence," he told her as he slipped the bracelet from its case and carefully clasped it around Leafpool's wrist. "It is a jewel of elegance and warmth." He chuckled softly as he tapped one of the tiny topaz stones. "Topaz is also the jewel of true love. I hope you will find the one you are destined for." He paused before adding, "In the country of Exotikam, they speak of a red string of fate. Pretend that these jewels will act the same way their strings do."

"Thank you, Featherpelt." Leafpool gazed tenderly at the delicate silver chain. "I'll treasure it." The two of them stood in a comfortable silence before she thought back to the rings on display. "What does an emerald mean?" A conflicted look crossed the blond man's face, but he answered her nonetheless.

"It's long been considered a symbol of hope and the perseveration of love." He paused before adding, "I'm sorry, Leafpool."

"No, it's fine." She shook her head bitterly. She should've expected this of a stone commonly used on wedding rings. "I shouldn't concern myself with their affairs. I'm sure my feelings will pass soon."

"What is so easily said is not so easily done," Featherpelt countered half-heartedly. "The feelings of the heart cannot be so easily forgotten. Nurture this wound, Leafpool. Experience will make future look more kindly upon you."

 

* * *

Third Person – Featherpelt

He wiped down the counters, exhausted by the long day of work. Tiredly straightening up certain parts of the shop and checking to see that all the jewels were locked away in the storage, he longed for the soft mattress that awaited him. Apprenticeship with Whiteear meant that he would have to stay with the man for as long as he worked under him. After inspecting the counters again, he realized there were a few areas in the front that needed attention. Sighing, he mentally cursed the woman who brought her overly-curious six-year-old into the shop to look for jewelry.

As he tended to the glass, he thought back to today's events. Leafpool had always looked like she had something to say, but just as she gathered enough courage to do so they had been unfortunately interrupted by two aristocrats. Featherpelt stiffened when he remembered how coldly he had been treated by Crowfeather. A part of him knew that he was growing too accustomed to how kind Cinderpelt and Leafpool were, but it had been a slap to the face when the blue-eyed boy regarded him coolly. For the first time in a long time, he felt a flicker of rage at the look of superiority in the aristocrat's posture.  _He will never understand the hardships of being raised in a home that does not flourish with wealth_ , Featherpelt thought bitterly.

It wasn't only the boy who unnerved him. Feathertail, the aristocratic female, seemed suspiciously rehearsed in her movements and actions. The first thing that alarmed Featherpelt about the couple was their obvious difference in age. The female aristocrat looked as if she was in her twenties while Crowfeather seemed significantly younger.  _It may just be an aristocratic thing—marrying people several years older than you_ , the blond man decided, brushing aside the thought. Regardless, she had worn a façade into the Red Sapphire; something that had most definitely did not go unnoticed by him.

His first clue was how cheerily she had greeted Leafpool. It was then that her smile strained with the weight of a silent burden. Next was when she rejected his choice of rings. With eight odd years tucked under his belt with experience in choosing rings for couples, Featherpelt had carefully selected the pair based on the appearance of the two aristocrats. The sapphire complimented her blue eyes while the silver ring worked wonders with Crowfeather's dark hair. But instead, she had selected a gaudy emerald-and-gold ring that was neither unique nor flattering. Her rejection was like someone had thrown a bucket of water at Featherpelt. It was an insult to his craft as a jeweler.

The last bit was how uncomfortable with the entire situation the silver-haired aristocrat had been. It was unusual for a woman, who was purchasing her own wedding ring, to be so rushed and nervous. Most women would hover for hours over prospective jewels, whining about either the extravagance, price, or whether it complimented their appearance. Feathertail, on the other hand, looked as if she wanted the process to be finished as soon as possible. _But why? Women should not rush over things like this._  After working with Whiteear for many years, Featherpelt learned that rushing the process often led to unhappy couples and faulty marriages.

A sharp knocking on the door startled him from his thoughts. Frowning, he squinted at the dark figure through the glass. It was rare to have customers this late—especially after closing time. Stepping closer, he felt his blood run cold when he recognized the person behind the door.  _That boy…_ Why had he come back? Did he have second thoughts about the ring his fiancée chose? Perhaps he wanted to trade them for the rings that were original suggested? _I'll swap them, but he'll have to pay the full price for those silver rings_ , Featherpelt huffed,  _either that, or I'll tell him to come back tomorrow. We are_ closed.

But curiosity quickly overpowered stubbornness and he unlocked the door, watching the boy warily as he stepped into the store.  _I'll see what he has to say for himself,_  the blond man decided,  _I can decide whether I want to kick him out afterwards._

"What is your relationship with Leafpool?"  _He gets straight to the point, doesn't he?_  Featherpelt was taken aback at the accusatory question, but quickly got over how unexpected it was.

"I'm afraid it's not necessary for me to divulge such  _personal_  information like that." He leaned casually against the counter, eyeing the aristocrat warily. He felt a twinge of satisfaction at how Crowfeather had stiffened at the word "personal". "But I have a question for you. Are you locked in an arranged marriage?"

"I'm not required to answer that."

"An eye for an eye," Featherpelt shot back. "I will give you what you want if you fulfill my requirements." The dark-haired man hesitated then, as if tempted to give an answer just to receive one.

"No. I'm marrying Feathertail because I love her. And  _you_?"

"How do I say this: Leafpool and I share a deep intimacy for each other," he mused. He felt a stab of interest at the hurt look that flashed through Crowfeather's eyes.  _A love triangle?_ Deciding to soldier on to confirm his suspicions, Featherpelt continued. "I've held her in my arms before. She's such a delicate creature—with her silky brown hair and soft skin—" He broke of suddenly as two arms forced him harder against the counter and forced the air out of his lungs.

"That's  _enough_ ," the aristocrat hissed, blue eyes blazing. "You've contaminated her. How can you live so freely knowing that you  _touched_  an innocent girl?" He pushed Featherpelt harder against the glass, ignoring his wince of pain as the countertop dug into his spine. "On top of that, she is the daughter of one of the most influential aristocrats in the entire Empire. Have you no shame?"

"No more than the child who claims he knows love," the blond man grit back.

"I love Feathertail!" Crowfeather growled.

"Then why are you here?" Both men froze and turned to see Whiteear leaning against the doorframe. A displeased glint flashed in his green eyes as he regarded the aristocrat.

"I…I care for Leafpool, that's all," the blue-eyed teenager defended himself, pulling away from Featherpelt with a prideful sniff. "I can't fear for one of my friends?"

"The way you greeted Leafpool today was not the way you greet a friend," the blond man snorted. "Do you treat your friends like strangers? And why would strangers care so much for one another?" He hid his shock when a fist curled up into the collar of his shirt and brought him down to level with Crowfeather's icy eyes.

" _We are not strangers_ ," he spat out coldly. "We are  _friends_."

"Ordinary friends would not go out of their way to investigate the intentions of a lover," Featherpelt hissed. "What if I told you I was planning to marry her?" He was lying through his teeth, but he knew that he had to push the aristocrat harder if he wanted an answer.

"She's too young for marriage!" The dark-haired teenager snapped.

"And what makes you think you aren't?" Crowfeather froze at the icy tone in Featherpelt's voice. "If you want me to marry her when she is of age, why won't you do the same? Are you nothing more than a hypocrite, a child who argues to be a man when every word he states is laced with naivety and immaturity?"

" _You take that back_ ," the aristocrat snarled, pushing the blond man against the counter again.

"Enough!" Again, Whiteear intervened. He looked coldly at Crowfeather. "If you wish to continue this conversation, take it out of the shop. We are currently  _closed_." The two of them stared at each other for a few moments before the blue-eyed teenager tore his gaze away.

"I'm leaving," he growled, turning sharply on his heel. "Don't expect me to be back." The door slammed shut behind him and Featherpelt straightened, rubbing angrily at his throbbing back.  _Stupid scrawny kid. Why can't you be as weak as you look?_ Sending one last glare after the retreating figure, he felt a wave of uneasiness wash over him as Whiteear stepped closer to him.

"What's all this about?"

"When you stepped out this afternoon,  _he_ ," Featherpelt nodded in the direction that Crowfeather had disappeared, "and his fiancée came to our shop to look for rings. They seemed to know Leafpool and were thinking of purchasing wedding rings. I offered them one of our best rings for a very low price because of their connections to Leafpool, but the woman shot me down and chose a gaudy ring that didn't compliment her or her partner in any way." He hesitated before adding, "The next bit about Leafpool is not my secret to tell, but when he stormed in just now, he demanded to know about my relationship with her. I egged him on by lying about the intimacy of my relationship with Leafpool and that's when you stepped in.

"Please don't tell Cinderpelt about this," the blond man pleaded a few seconds later. "It would only distress Leafpool further."

"That decision is mine to make," Whiteear reminded him. "But perhaps our lovely friend's life is much darker than we initially presumed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for double notes guys, but I'll always keep notes about asterisks down here.
> 
> NOTE: I had to make it so that Featherpelt was a foreigner in order to explain why he speaks in French. I thought it was too weird for him to be a native to the Empire when he speaks a different language than the rest of them and I really did tone down on French because first off, I have to use Google Translate for that (because I actually studied Spanish, not French), and second, the Empire is a lot more open to travelling than I initially let on. Featherpelt is a foreigner from some unnamed nation and there are mentions to the "Red string of fate" which has also been labeled to some unknown nation that I really just created on the spot.
> 
> It is in his blood* - this is a reference to "Be Italian" which is a song about how the Italian's ability to be passionate and seductive is in his/her blood.


	9. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is in the air for many of our beloved characters, but tensions rise between characters as what is hidden threatens to be revealed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos! 
> 
> To Safira: thank you so much for that correction! It's so hard to be accurate with languages you don't understand and I'm grateful that you're looking out for me.

Third Person – Cinderpelt

She hummed in amusement, earning a curious look from Leafpool as the smoky-haired woman rifled through the shelves. The brunette had stumbled on the blue-eyed woman when she came into the library to work on her sketches. From there on, the two women had worked separately, tending to their separate needs.

Astertail's shy, flushed face flickered through Cinderpelt's mind again and she chuckled, earning another glance from her student. Yesterday, one of the maids had been dared by her friends to flirt with the groomsman. The maid spent the entire day flattering the brunet and brushing up against him whenever he passed. The pair had earned quite a few bemused looks from the aristocrats, who knew very little of the situation. Cinderpelt herself had only stumbled across the true nature of this flirtation when one of the maid's friends was gossiping in the hallway. It amused her that they had enough frivolity to tease the groomsman to a stammering mess.

She had to admit, however, that Astertail's chivalry was refreshing and heartwarming. He always looked so pleased whenever she thanked him for his willingness to drive Leafpool to and from Lilystone. It seemed that the smallest things could bring happiness to the brunet, a feat that was extremely rare amongst the people Cinderpelt had grown acquainted to. It was difficult for anyone to stay angry at him, especially when he widened his warm brown eyes and blushed at them. Even the strict head butler had a soft spot for the groomsman, often cracking a small smile whenever he was around.

Although she found herself giving into Featherpelt and Leafpool's insistencies and growing more fond of Astertail with each passing day, a part of her held her back. Despite having passed into a new life where love was not taboo to those who practiced medicine, Cinderpelt still felt obligated to follow the rules established for medicine cats. She still felt as if love stood as an entity that she would never acquire due to her status and practice. She still felt as if she was cheated of love—something that every medicine cat experienced in his or her lifetime. Some had even fallen prey to their desires—Yellowfang and Leafpool—and had paid a heavy price for their "wrongs".

_Is it still wrong to fall in love now?_  Similar to how she had died as a cat, Yellowfang had passed away after an arsonist had succeeded in burning down one of Herobexy's mansions. Leafpool had yet to feel the pull of her past affections and Spottedleaf had fallen prey to her sentiments. All around her, she saw former medicine cats struggling to make the change into a society where love wasn't illegal. Most of the doctors who weren't connected to Starreign had an easier time integrating into love, but mediators like Littlecloud, Mudfur, and Cinderpelt herself were finding it difficult to take part in or initiate romantic appeals.

But Astertail's shy tendencies and clumsy actions were cutting through Cinderpelt's reluctance like a knife. Each time he gave her a bashful smile, each time he glanced longingly in her direction, each time she saw how pleased he was whenever she praised him, she found herself wanting to be a part of something  _more_. She wanted to be more than just a mentor. She wanted to be more than just a doctor. She wanted more than just respected. She wanted to be happy. She wanted to raise a family. She wanted  _to be loved._

Maybe things would've been different if she wasn't so scared of the past. But every time Cinderpelt felt a slight tug toward Astertail, her damaged leg would cramp up immediately and she would be reminded of the monster that towered over her and disabled her for life. She could see the parallels between her past life and the one she led now—her smashed leg had taken away her future as a cat and there was no doubt that it would take away her future now as a human. But the question that spoke louder than the suspicious parallels and the fleeting moments of  _déjà vu_  was  _'who would ever fall in love with such a broken body?'_

That's what she was. Broken. Burdened with the secret of being a mediator, restricted by the limits of her deformed leg, haunted by the past that seemed to engulf more and more of her future—Cinderpelt was like the shattered porcelain doll on the floor—unintentionally dropped and hazardously repaired for second-hand use. And if to add onto her towering,  _suffocating_  list of responsibilities, she knew that Leafpool was carefully following in her footsteps. The expectations of leading someone to a place she had never been before was overwhelming.  _Leafpool deserves more than anyone to be happy_ , Cinderpelt thought, remembering the bitter, suffering-rich life the brunette had led. Curiously enough, a small voice in the back of her head gently reminded her,  _but so do you._

* * *

 

Rubbing down her mare, Cinderpelt couldn't help the gentle smile that touched her lips as she ran her hands down the horse's flank. The return to horseback riding had been terrifying at first when the memories of having her leg smashed to bits was still fresh in her mind, but Firestar had eventually coaxed her into riding again.  _Thank Starreign he did that_ , she thought appreciatively as her mare pressed her nose against her.

Satisfied, the blue-eyed woman led her horse into the stables, pleasantly surprised to see that Astertail was filling up the trough with an oat mix.  _Always going out of his way to help others_ , she thought bemusedly. He looked up as she approached, a startled blush making its way across his cheeks. "Cinderpelt! I saw Mist was out and I just thought…" He trailed off, glancing uneasily at the half-filled trough.

"Thank you," she replied calmly, leading her mare further into the stables. "She deserves a nice, hearty meal after a good ride." Astertail seemed to relax significantly as the horse approached him. The gray mare pushed her nose against his cheek, huffing fondly as he stroked her cheek. After a few moments, she began nosing around his pockets, tail swishing from side to side. Laughing, the brunet gently pushed her aside, earning a curious look from Cinderpelt. It was the first time she had heard such a carefree laugh from the groomsman.

The world seemed to disappear around Astertail as he worked with Mist. The blue-eyed aristocrat felt a wave of newfound respect swell in her chest as she watched the two of them. The way the brunet tended to her mare was the same way she tended to her patients. "Oh no you don't, Mist," he cooed affectionately, shoving the mare's muzzle away from his pockets. "Dessert comes  _after_  your meal. I'll come back with your sugar cubes and apples later." The horse huffed irritably in his face, but nuzzled him regardless. She calmly walked into her stall, throwing a lazy look over her shoulder as Astertail gently closed the door behind her.

Cinderpelt felt a twinge of disappointment when the brunet's broad grin faded slightly as he turned to her. Instead, it was quickly replaced with a blush. "I'm sorry, I just ignored you there," he stammered.

"No problem." She smiled at him. "I'm glad to see that my horse is well taken care of."

"Only the best, ma'am." The boyish grin was back, this time accompanied by its own, pleased flush. The conversation quickly faded into an awkward silence and Cinderpelt grew more and more aware of Astertail's nervous movements. Deciding that it was time to leave, she nodded at the groomsman.

"Well, I suppose I'll be off," she announced, turning to the stable doors. "I guess I'll see you arou—"

"Wouldyouliketohaveteawithme?" She froze and blinked at him dazedly.

"E-excuse me?" Astertail's face was beet red as he shyly raised his honey-brown eyes to meet hers.

"Would you like to have tea with me?" He repeated quietly. Cinderpelt stared at him for a few long moments, replaying the question repeatedly in her head. Just as he was about to open his mouth to dismiss the offer, the words clicked and she gave him a small smile.

"That would be wonderful," she murmured.

* * *

 

Third Person – Leafpool

After finishing her sketches for the day, Leafpool had wandered out of library in search of Squirrelflight. She eventually found her sister sitting by the river, giving Ashfur half-interested glances as he leaned up against the tree she was sitting at. When the redhead caught sight of the brunette, a look of relief crossed her face and she waved Leafpool over. "Leafa! You done with your studies today?"

"Today was sort of a relaxation day," she informed Squirrelflight as she knelt down beside her sister. "Good afternoon, Ashfur." She nodded to the blue-eyed aristocrat.

"Good afternoon, Leafpool," he replied pleasantly. He quickly turned his attention to Squirrelflight, who rolled her eyes inconspicuously at the brunette. Giving her sister a wry smile, Leafpool steeled herself for Ashfur's rambles as she nestled into Squirrelflight's side. "…as I was saying, I think bloodhounds are the best hunting dogs around. They have a great sense of smell and they're loud enough to lead their masters to their game."

"The problem is if they're too noisy," Squirrelflight sighed. "They'll scare off all the rest of the game and then you'll left with one lousy bird that couldn't get away in time."

"Well I'm sure that you can train them to be a little more obedient," he defended himself lightly. "What do you think, Leafpool?"

"I don't know much about hunting," she replied, throwing him a hesitant smile. "But I know father likes to use red hounds," she added quickly when the gray-haired aristocrat deflated slightly.

"Red hounds?" He perked up immediately at her words. "But their coloring could give them away before they can even spot the game."

"My hair is red," Squirrelflight cut in scathingly. "Are you saying that my hair color would give me out as well?" She turned her poisonous green eyes onto Ashfur. "Mind you, my papa's an excellent hunter—and his hair is redder than mine!" The gray-haired man seemed taken aback by Squirrelflight's outburst and recoiled from her slightly.

"I'm sorry, that didn't come out right," he apologized quickly, appeasing the redhead before her anger could settle. "I didn't mean to insult you." Leafpool watched as her sister's shoulders sagged in defeat, a disappointed glimmer flickering through her eyes. Smiling sympathetically, the brunette gently leaned onto her sister.

If it were Brambleclaw, he would've persisted in the argument. It was obvious that the redhead missed her old arguing partner and the fact that he was currently the focus of her affections mad e her miss him all the more. But as dark-haired brunet's visits have been less frequent for the past few weeks, Squirrelflight's schedule became punctuated with numerous "coincidental encounters" with Ashfur. She wasn't quite rude enough to tell the blue-eyed aristocrat to back off, but her pride wouldn't allow her to plead Brambleclaw to come over.

"It's alright," she muttered, ignoring the hopeful light in Ashfur's eyes. "Just don't do that again." Rising to her feet, she gently brushed off the back of her trousers before heading back to the manor. The blue-eyed man took a step toward her retreating figure, but held himself back. He glanced at Leafpool in confusion, who smiled at him with a shrug.

Trying to offer up an excuse to her sister's drastic shift in mood, Leafpool murmured, "I think she's just tired."

"Of course." He didn't look particularly convinced by her words, but he accepted them nonetheless. Giving her a brief, friendly smile, Ashfur stepped toward the direction of the West Gate. "I'll see you around," he promised before turning away.

_I'd rather you stay away_ , Leafpool sighed bitterly. She had received a letter from Tawnypelt just this morning regarding the prickly, frustrated airhead more commonly known as her brother. The brunette had complained about how Brambleclaw did nothing but mope and snap at people whenever they voiced their concern for him.

" _He's always looking at the carriages and looks like he's going to board one and ride as fast as he can over to where your sister is, but BAM! Next second he's scowling and grumbling as he leaves the servants confused as to whether they should_ actually _prepare the carriage for him. I swear to Starreign—my brother is changing moods as frequently as a landed fish thrashes for water!_ " Tawnypelt's letter was full of snippets like this, complaining mostly about her brother while throwing in a question or two about Squirrelflight's antics. Leafpool felt guilty for going behind her sister's back, but the Herobexy aristocrat quickly convinced her it was for a greater good.

Today's letter also brought some startling news. " _Can you believe that Crowfeather and Feathertail are pushing back their wedding? For the past few weeks' it's been 'let's get this wedding started as soon as humanly possible' and 'I want to get married by the end of spring' and then suddenly they're announcing that they'll put it on hold until Crowfeather becomes of age. They haven't made clear whose idea it was, but I have a feeling that it was Feathertail. They had a pretty rough courting, so I'm guessing she wanted to slow down for a more romantic feel._ "

Although she felt an overwhelming amount of confusion regarding the wedding, a part of her was relieved that Crowfeather wasn't getting married just yet. " _According to Stormfur, Graystripe and Crowfeather seemed to make some sort of agreement on his engagement to Feathertail. It was something along the lines of 'let me get engaged with your daughter before anyone else can steal me away'. It sounded pretty crazy to me when he first told me about it, but then I remembered that Crowfeather's been chasing after Feathertail ever since we were kids. I think it's a little sweet how in love he is._ " Leafpool's heart had throbbed painfully at these words, but she had quickly pushed them aside before they could settle.

" _Anyway, Feathertail showed me the rings she was being married in. Just between you and me, I don't think they're the best fit for her and Crowfeather, but I guess whatever makes her happy is enough to keep the engagement going._ " It was relieving to know that she and Featherpelt weren't the only ones who were uncomfortable with Feathertail's choice of jewelry. It could be argued that her sense of fashion could be lacking, but with the careful extravagance of the silver-haired aristocrat's clothes and the house of Riverside's reputation for being talented artisans, it was highly unlikely that that theory was true.

Shaking her head in exasperation, Leafpool pulled herself out of her thoughts and headed back into the manor. Perhaps she would find solace there, amongst familiar faces and warm voices.

* * *

 

_"You are troubled," Bluestar murmured worriedly when Leafpool stirred, easing into the dreamscape. Her blue eyes flickered with concern. "Is it of your sister?"_

_"I would hardly think she would come to us about Crowfeather," Yellowfang snorted, whiskers twitching in amusement when the blue she-cat shot her a half-hearted glare. "Ashfur's causing trouble for Brambleclaw now, isn't he?" An exasperated look crossed her face. "Both of them have always been so stubborn—Brambleclaw in particular."_

_"Squirrelflight's been feeling uneasy," Leafpool murmured, noticing the wary look the two Starreign cats shared. A nervous bubble rose inside of her, but she ignored it as she continued, "she's afraid that her feelings are reciprocated. The rest of us know that Brambleclaw still isn't sure where he stands right now, but…it's causing a lot more trouble than I initially expected."_

_"Toms," the gray she-cat muttered irritably, earning a bemused glance from Bluestar._

_"Brambleclaw has a lot of reason to be wary of love," the blue-eyed cat mused. "He has lost both parents—one to selfishness and the other to greed."_

_Leafpool felt a stab of sympathy for the brown tom. It had been a scandalous outrage when Tigerstar lashed out at Bluestar, hoping to steal her position as head of Herobexy. She could understand his desperation for it—he was popular amongst the youth, but the older generation was extremely wary of him. In addition to that, there were many other appealing candidates for the head and Bluestar had yet to reach the age to pass her position onto a successor. Before long, the elders' disapproving whispers had driven Tigerstar to near insanity, uprooting all reason and driving him to attack Bluestar in a fit of rage._

_He had claimed her life then, taking away the lives of several others when they tried to restrain him. It was a massacre—four Herobexy and two visiting Riverside aristocrats were killed in the fray. In his fit of rage, Tigerstar had ripped the life of Brindleface away from her four children—one of which being Cloudtail, Firestar's nephew. When he had dragged down Bluestar, Stonefur and Oakheart had lost their lives in their attempts to immobilize him. Whitestorm and Runningwind were the last of the massacre, but a suicide note from Darkstripe had revealed that the murderer was also responsible for Swiftpaw and Redtail's deaths._

_The entire house was scandalized. Immediate orders from the capital were given to execute Tigerstar before he caused any more damage. When Goldenflower had gone to his room with her children to pay her last respects to her corrupted husband, he had taken her captive, threatening her with a jagged shard of glass he had hidden in his clothes. It had taken a total of five minutes for the Herobexy knight force to arrive, and just as the first arrow pierced Tigerstar's body, he thrust the glass into his wife's throat and Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt witness the simultaneous murder of mother and the last wicked gleam fade from their father's eyes._

_There had been a total of eight deaths in total—seven victims and one murderer. There was news that the house of Herobexy would never be seen the same way after this scandal, and in many ways this was true. However, with time, the condescending whispers of the peasants and other nobles transitioned to rain hellfire onto Tigerstar's remaining "bastard children" before fading into nothingness. Both Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt carried the scars of their past, often flinching at the mention of their mother's name and growling at any comment regarding their "father"._

_Brambleclaw had a gaping, tender wound torn into his heart. It had been just recently that two new aristocrats had been found in the midst of peasantry before their mother admitted that their father was none other than the infamous Tigerstar. Tawnypelt had been the first to recover from the news, choosing to depend on her ties to the house of Shadowrim while Brambleclaw secluded himself in his room, worrying everyone in his group of friends._

_"I think Squirrelflight is upset with Brambleclaw's friendship with Hawkfrost," Leafpool murmured after a few moments of silence. "She's been spending more and more time with Ashfur because she knows that Brambleclaw can barely stand him, but she's been acting strangely around him lately." Her mind flickered back to Squirrelflight's obvious discomfort in the blue-eyed aristocrat's presence. "He's been pushing himself onto her a lot more than he used to."_

_"Ashfur faces similar pains to those of Brambleclaw's," Bluestar replied. "He has lost both his parents to Tigerstar's greed."_

_"He loved too much," Yellowfang muttered. Leafpool's ear twitched in confusion at the gray she-cat's words, but they obviously unnerved Bluestar in some manner._

_"I apologize, Leafpool," the blue she-cat rumbled after a few tense seconds. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave us for tonight. Yellowfang and I have matters to tend to."_

_"I'm perfectly content with resting here for the rest of the day," the amber-eyed cat shot back, unfazed by the harshness of Bluestar's glare. Feeling her pelt prickle uncomfortably at the static in the air, Leafpool hastily bid farewell to both cats before rushing out of the clearing, effectively forcing herself out of the dream and back into reality._

* * *

 

Third Person – Omniscient

_"What are you thinking?" Bluestar snarled, stalking over to Yellowfang. The gray she-cat blinked at her coolly, the twitch of her tail tip giving away her discomfort. "The past is not to be revealed to those who are not mediators!"_

_"Leafpool has every ability and_ right  _to become a mediator," Yellowfang shot back, rising to her paws. "Just watch—Littlecloud or one of the other mediators is going to let information of that position slip and then she'll know. Then she'll_ want  _to become a mediator. We were given a second life to live to the fullest, Bluestar," she growled softly, "what are you doing—keeping her from everything she can be?"_

_"You don't understand! Her past is something that should never be repeated!" The blue-eyed cat snapped._

_"Just because we know doesn't mean that we'll repeat it."_

_"Every action we make is influenced by our past." Bluestar stepped forward until she was invading Yellowfang's space, face hovering inches away from the older she-cat. "I know you've had your hard times and I've lost my kits just as you've lost yours. But Leafpool was condemned by_ everyone _around her, hated by the cats she loved most, and she thought_ she _was the reason that everyone was suffering! She blames Cinderpelt's death on herself, her kits hating her on herself, Bramblecl—Bramblestar and Squirrelflight's ruined relationship on herself—she was broken before and I have no interest in seeing her broken again!"_

_"You can't keep someone's past from them," Yellowfang hissed. "That's not morally correct!"_

_"Sometimes you lie to do the right thing," Bluestar grit out._

_"Is it the right thing?"_

_"I'm giving her a chance to lead a new life," she spat out. "I'm giving her a life where she'll be free from the shadows of the past—free from all the things that caused her to suffer in the first place!"_

_"That's where you're wrong," Yellowfang whispered coldly. "I understand the reasons behind your concern, Bluestar, but Leafpool is not to be coddled and sheltered like you want her to be. Life is worthless if there is no struggle. Life is meaningless if there is no truth. Life will become a thundercloud hanging over her like a plague until one day the truth strikes her like lightning!" She paused, composing herself before continuing in a calmer voice. "Leafpool needs to know of the past. She can't be sheltered from it and we have no right to keep it from her."_

_The blue-eyed she-cat stared at her for a few minutes before dropping her head in defeat. "Out of all the cats in the world—why her?" Bluestar choked out._

_"She loved too much," Yellowfang sighed. "The best of us always do." She paused, throwing a warning look over her shoulder at a faraway patch of grass. "As do others," she growled menacingly as she gazed into the glowing amber eyes that peeked through the green blades, "who aren't the best." Bluestar raised her head and gazed over Yellowfang's shoulder curiously, but the eavesdropper had already slipped away, disappearing in the dappled forest as they carried the secrets of the conversation into their hearts._

* * *

 

Third Person – Featherpelt

He couldn't deny the smug feeling filling the corners of his body when he saw a wary, uncertain Crowfeather hovering around the front of the shop. It had taken the boy several months to gather his wits and return to the very shop he said he wouldn't. Whiteear caught his eye and raised an eyebrow when he caught a glimpse of the wavering aristocrat through the window. "Don't let it get to your head," the shopkeeper warned when Featherpelt couldn't keep his know-it-all smirk in. "He may be here about the rings."

_Well I couldn't give two craps about the rings_. It was a lie of course—he cared dearly about the rings. Any jeweler would treat his rings the same, regardless of whether he liked the person he sold them to or not. "But of course." Nodding his head to Whiteear, Featherpelt quietly slipped his messenger pack over his head, settling the strap across his torso securely. "I'll run a few errands while I'm out," he told his mentor when the white-haired man glanced curiously at him. "Is there anything you need—or fancy?"

"Drop by Swanpelt's bakery and pick up some bread," the shopkeeper replied monotonously. Featherpelt gave a knowing look to the green-eyed man and Whiteear sighed before grumbling, "And pick up a few treats for me. You know which ones." Satisfied, the blond man nodded at his mentor before casually leaving the shop, plastering a look of surprise on his face when Crowfeather whirled around to see him.

" _Mon dieu_ , Crowfeather, what are you doing here?" Patting himself on the back for his excellent acting skills, he hid his amusement at the flustered look the aristocrat adopted. "Are there any complications regarding the rings?"

"Rings? No, the rings are fine." The dark-haired teenager seemed thoroughly confused by Featherpelt's words, but brushed it off quickly.

"Is that so? Then I shall be on my way." Tilting his head slightly, he gave Crowfeather a small bow before turning his attention to the street signs around him. He could almost feel the teenager's hesitancy and a small smile crossed Featherpelt's face knowingly—it would be some time before the aristocrat would speak up, but it wouldn't seem to take long.

"I thought about what you said," Crowfeather blurted out. Featherpelt, just to humor the boy, threw a half-interested look over his shoulder. "You…were right. I shouldn't be criticizing your desire to marry Leafpool when I'm about to marry Feathertail myself. You two should be free to love, as is."

These weren't the words he had been expecting. Deciding to egg the teenager on, the blond man turned back to the aristocrat and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Oh, Leafpool and I aren't getting married," he replied smoothly. "In fact, we've never been in love at all."

" _What?_ " The look on Crowfeather's face was priceless.

"I heard you postponed your wedding for a few more months—more like two years," the jeweler prattled on, blue eyes watching the aristocrat warily. "Why change your mind so suddenly? Weren't you going to hold the marriage earlier—isn't that what your dear fiancée wanted?"

"F-Feathertail had no objections to my proposition to postpone it," the teenager spluttered, still stunned by Featherpelt's earlier words.  _Oh?_  The blond man's eyes narrowed slightly.  _Why would a woman so rushed to get married be so willing to place it on hiatus?_  "And what's this about not being married to Leafpool?" Realization crossed Crowfeather's face. "You tricked me," he accused, pointing a finger at the jeweler.

"Didn't your mother tell you it was impolite to point?" Featherpelt snipped mildly. Caught off guard, the blue-eyed aristocrat merely stared at him. "Anyway, why are you so upset that I lied? They were merely words spoken in the heat of the moment."

" _Because otherwise I wouldn't have postponed my wedding!_ "

"Then why didn't you? You could've tested to see whether I was actually going to marry Leafpool or not." Featherpelt crossed his arms around his chest. "If you're so in love with your fiancée as you say you are, why couldn't you have just married her and done away with Leafpool? She is none of your concern."

"She's my friend," Crowfeather protested. "I…I care for her."

"Is that so?" The blond man cocked his head slightly at the aristocrat. "I may not be engaged to Leafpool or participating in a romantic relationship with her, but she does confide in me frequently. You two aren't close. In fact, she hesitated to even call you a friend." A flash of pain flickered through Crowfeather's eyes. "Now why is that? Why do you call her a friend while she only knows you as a familiar acquaintance?"

"I…we're friends," the boy murmured distraughtly. He turned his blue eyes onto Featherpelt, looking thoroughly lost. "Why…why would she say that? Even though we care for each other—"

"I'm afraid you'll have to rethink in what way you care for her before I can answer that question for you," Featherpelt cut him off quickly. "When you know what truly lies in your heart and whose face truly lingers in your dreams…" He turned away from the aristocrat, casting one last glance over his shoulder. "…feel free to find me at the Red Sapphire."

* * *

 

The streets were more crowded than usual. Featherpelt strained to remember if there was any particular event that was happening in the plaza. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been sandwiched between so many people. He was pushed and shoved in all directions as he struggled to return to the shop, arms wrapped around Whiteear's precious baked goods. It would be a struggle to make it through the crowds without squishing the pastries—and beside, the shopkeeper would sympathize with him if he saw the state of the streets—right?

Sighing, Featherpelt wrapped his arms more tightly around himself as he tried to push into the openings in the crowd. It had been rather humid this morning and being flanked by people on all sides made the day all the more uncomfortable for him. Scowling at the sensation of sweat running down his forehead, the blond man shook his head irritably, praying that the liquid wouldn't drip into his eyes. Oh how he hated hot weather.

Someone collided with him and he barely managed to catch the person before they tumbled to the ground. He heard a faint  _squelch_  and winced—Whiteear was not going to be pleased with the outcome of his pastries.  _I'll have to apologize to him—or at least run back and buy some more_ , Featherpelt sighed, mentally wiping away tears at the thought of spending more of his hard-earned money. Turning his attention to the situation at hand—or rather the girl in his arms—he carefully helped her straighten up. " _Excusez-moi_ ,  _Madmoiselle_. Are you alright?" The dazed blonde woman blinked blearily at him before taking in a sharp gasp.

"My herbs!" Scattered around Featherpelt's feet were various dried herbs, each threatened by the trampling feet around them. The blonde man dropped down to his knees, quickly scooping up whatever he could. In front of him, the mystery woman did the same, wincing as heels and shoes stepped on and grazed her outstretched hands.

_This just won't do_ , a small voice in the back of Featherpelt's mind tut-tutted.  _She'll drop them again when you try to give her your bundle. You'll have to give her your bag._  Resting the herbs precariously on his knees, Featherpelt quickly pulled the ruined pastries out of his messenger bag and maneuvered the herbs into the pouch. Opening the bag for the girl, he watched her hesitate before she poured her armful into the messenger bag. Straightening up, he carefully tucked whatever was left of the pastries into his jacket as he moved to hand the filled bag to the stranger

"I do apologize, I hadn't been looking—" he broke off, taking in the girl's appearance for the first time. Golden hair cascaded down onto her shoulders, curling around her cheeks and framing her face in gentle waves. Her blue eyes were clear and wide, reminiscent of the sparkling lakes Featherpelt knew growing up. She was beautiful.

Before he knew it, a gentle smile crossed his face as he handed the stranger his bag. For some reason, he had a feeling he would be meeting her again. "Your herbs," he murmured. He felt a shock run up his arms when their fingers brushed and the startled expression on in the girl's eyes told him she had felt it too. " _Adieu_ ," he whispered, brushing past her gently. As he increased the distance between the two of them, he felt her breath linger on his cheek, the softness of her hair brush his neck when she turned her head to watch him leave. It was beautiful.  _She_  was beautiful.

When he returned to the shop, Whiteear scowled at the state of his pastries, but took them regardless. "How was your walk?" The shopkeeper asked distractedly, grimacing at his soggy custard bun. Featherpelt glanced over his shoulder at his mentor and smiled thoughtfully at him.

" _Magnifique_ ," he whispered as he disappeared into the back of the shop. " _Absolument magnifique_."


	10. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Crowfeather struggles to come to terms with his feelings and finally comes to a decision, disaster strikes. Amid joy and new beginnings, a death signals that the calm before the storm has finally given way. Lingering mysteries are solved as new ones take their place.
> 
> Warning: There are some mature implications in this chapter. There is nothing explicit, but it does get a bit fluffy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who kudo-ed or left a comment!
> 
> To Leticia: LeafxCrow is still a big part (if not the majority) of this story, but there are also side characters and relationships I want to explore because 1) it lets me world build and 2) you get to learn about the other characters who live in this world! And as for the French, I do know some words in the language, but I depend mostly on google translate, which means that there are most definitely spelling errors/gender errors in my writing. I don't take offense in people pointing out technical errors in my writing, but I don't appreciate being rushed. But thank you so much for the comment and I hope I cleared things up for you.
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter!

Third Person – Crowfeather

_Silky brown hair slipped through his fingers with a flirtatious, seductive air. Bringing the strands to his face, he inhaled the gentle scent of lavender and vanilla, feeling it waft and settle over him like a blanket. He twisted a lock between his fingers, marveling at its silkiness as it coyly untangled itself from him. Taking a gentle handful of it, he tugged, reveling in the soft gasp it drew from its owner. Bemused amber eyes glistened at him, a smile curling at the corner of plush lips at his childish fascination._

_"Crowfeather," she laughed, a gentle_ what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you  _expression crossing her face as she brushed the hair out of his eyes. He snorted at her, blowing half-heartedly at his bangs as they continued to tickle his eyelids. This earned another musical note of laughter from her as she cupped his face, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. He leaned into the touch, rumbling blissfully as he gently pushed her onto her back. Resting his head against her collarbone, he purred like an enormous housecat, pleased with the hands that were leisurely running through his hair._

_There was no urgency in the body underneath him and it soothed him. There was no one threatening their time together, no one speaking out against their love, no one to take away the connection that they shared. He nuzzled the creamy skin, letting out soft murmurs of encouragement as her fingers left his hair to run down to his shoulders. Behind the trailing fingertips, she left a trail of feathers—tickling his skin to oversensitivity and making him arch after the disappearing fingers. She giggled, the sound resonating through her entire body and filling him with a vibration so pleasuring that he purred again._

_A fond huff left her as one of her hands rested against the hollow between his shoulder blades—a warm and comforting weight. "You're such a housecat," she tut-tutted affectionately, arching her eyebrow when he lifted his head to give her a lazy smile. He pressed a kiss to the skin he had been lying upon before scooting up to line their bodies together. She shivered at the contact, but gazed tenderly at him as he hovered over her. "Hey you," she whispered, a smile gracing the corners of her lips. There was a simple, unintended seduction in the movement and Crowfeather leaned into her, feeling warmth gather in his stomach as her breath fanned over his cheek. He felt a sharp stab of desire as he gazed into her amber eyes, a devious, satisfied feeling rushing through his veins as the tenderness faded into lust._

_He felt a swell of pride as her breathing grew heavier and her lips parted in anticipation for his kiss. Only he could see her like this—only he could make her like this. But as her gentle fingers came up to trace the gentle curve of his jaw, he was reminded of how he was the same. He was a slave to her touch just as much as she was to his. Letting out a low, lustful rumble, he pressed himself against her, feeling a spark of pleasure ignite between the two of them as she drew in a sharp breath. He leaned in closer, feeling her breath mingle with his as he shortened the distance between them. "I love you, Leafpool."_

* * *

 

It would only be a matter of time before he wore down his floorboards and fell straight through the second floor. Crowfeather's teeth worried at his lip as he paced across the wooden floor, glancing every so often at the brightening sliver of light that cut through his curtains. Marching over to his nightstand, he pulled a velvet box, fingering its top uneasily before revealing the ring below. The green emerald glittered hauntingly at him, the coldness of the metal band cutting into his fingers as a harsh reminder of his responsibilities.

He was disgusted with himself. How could he see Leafpool in such a manner when he had Feathertail resting in the circle of his arms? How could he ever see Leafpool as anything more than a friend? Although he was rather unnerved by the truth, the brunette was very much the shadow of her sister and usually faded away during social gatherings until she was a nothing more but a lingering mark against the wall. Yet at the same time, she was something more than that. How many people knew the sardonic curve of her lips, the way her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks, and the sound of her hushed laughter? How many people had seen her marvel at the smallest details, blush at the slightest compliment, and smile knowingly at the most forgotten of nuances?

Crowfeather knew. In his eyes, she was never a shadow. She always accepted the people around her with open arms, chastising them when they were wrong and listening when they needed it most. He never knew the warmth of Leafpool's gaze until it had turned onto him three years ago, when she found solace in his company as her family was torn before her. Truth be told, he had also taken comfort in her presence, struggling to bear the burden of holding the last of Ebenwing's heritage blood. They were each other's sanctuary, finding peace within one another when they couldn't turn to the warring adults.

From then on, it had been effortless for the two to seek each other out. In the months prior to his engagement, Leafpool would be the first face he would recognize at a social gathering. He always found it was difficult to ignore her, with her wavy brown hair and sparkling amber eyes. To disregard the way she smiled gently at her peers and touched the topaz around her neck. To completely dismiss her small murmurs of surprise at an unexpectedly delicious tidbit or her startled expression whenever she was handed wine by a careless server. It had been an unsettling thought when he realized how many tries he needed to pick Feathertail from the crowds while one glance was all that was necessary for him to find Leafpool.

Perhaps it was his attachment to her that led him to this conflicted state of mind. The blissful, cloud-nine feeling of his engagement had faded quickly when Leafpool began to avoid him during his visits. He had attempted to hold many conversations with her then, but each time he approached her, she withdrew with a small, wistful smile on her lips. Later, with Featherpelt he had felt an absurd amount of rage at the mere suggestion of Leafpool's engagement with a  _mere peasant_. All of these feelings were ones of friendship, of someone who cared deeply for another with a similar darkness in his life.

At least, this is what he believed until this morning. When he had first awoken from that hazy, blissful dream, his first thought was not of horror. Instead, a wave of disappointment had washed over him in its place. He wanted to know whether her lips held the same quality of the velveteen softness of rose petals, he wanted to feel her cool fingertips against his skin—he wanted everything. He wanted the events that were to come, the intimacy that was to be shared, and the fulfillment of the lust that kindled between the two of them. Once this feeling faded, however, he was overwhelmed with guilt and disbelief.

He was engaged to Feathertail, for Starreign's sake! But Leafpool's appearance in his dream was making him even more uncertain about his engagement. He had to admit that he and Feathertail were drifting apart since the first mention of their betrothal, a feat that he neither expected nor was pleased with. In an attempt to reassure himself of their connection, he suggested that the two of them place their wedding on hiatus. Feathertail must've loved him very much to accept his engagement proposal in the first place, so it had been a complete shock when she accepted his proposition without batting an eyelash.

"This marriage is impossible," Crowfeather choked out, tossing the ring onto his bed and turning sharply on his heel. It was unnerving how Feathertail had accepted the postponement of their wedding so willingly. Could it be that she found love in the arms of someone else while he fretted and stressed over Featherpelt's criticism of his early engagement? The mere thought of Feathertail slipping through his fingers and running into another's arms was like a knife to his heart. Maybe that was the reason why she could reject him so easily—or maybe she had just had enough of him.

A bitter smile crossed his face as he stepped out of his room. With the way he had been acting lately, he would've been surprised if she hadn't had gotten sick of him yet.  _I don't deserve Feathertail_ , he thought as he headed down the hallway.  _She shouldn't be forced to stay with me. After all, I'm only hurting her by holding her back._  There was someone else in Feathertail's life and for the first time in his life, Crowfeather felt no anger towards this realization—only a faint sadness for what could've been. It had been his dream as a child to marry her and take over as the head of Ebenwing, but as the years passed, those dreams changed. He didn't to anchor the dying house of Ebenwing to the title of aristocrats and he didn't want to force a woman who didn't love him into marriage. It seemed that time had changed him far beyond what he had originally expected.

He was going to make an enemy of Graystripe with this news. He could only imagine how unbelievable it would be for the aristocrat to promise his daughter to man—a child—for three years before being told that the marriage would be cancelled. Either way, he couldn't bring himself to harm Feathertail any longer.  _She deserves to be happy, with someone who can truly love her_ , Crowfeather thought.  _I loved her once, but that won't ever be enough._

He took a deep breath as he neared her door, steeling himself to knock. After their engagement, she had moved herself to the Ebenwing manor so whatever proceedings to come after their marriage could be easily taken care of. However, it seemed that the news he was bringing would be far from what she was expecting.  _I should inform Graystripe of the matter first_ , he decided. _After all, I ought to explain to him first._  In all honesty, the decision to take the matter to Graystripe first would buy him time to gather his wits in order to face his fiancée. Despite expecting a premarital affair, he was terrified of how Feathertail would react to the news.

"Feathertail?" Crowfeather knocked gently on her door. "Are you in there?"

"Y-yes!" He frowned at the startled quality of her voice and felt his heart sink at the wild shuffling noise behind the door. What was she hiding from him? "What do you need?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I am making a trip to visit your father," he called through the door. He heard hushed voices whisper frantically at each other before Feathertail pulled the door open, looking flustered and nervous. She hadn't opened the door all the way and although he was tempted to peek over her head, he kept his eyes trained on her face.

"What for?" There was a fearful note in her voice as she regarded him. Crowfeather was a bit taken aback at first, but a chilling realization settled over his heart. So it was true. Feathertail was having an affair.  _Your secret is safe with me,_  he thought as he gazed at her.  _It's the least I can do after making you promise yourself to me for three years._

"Just to discuss our marriage." She relaxed visibly at his words, but the same, uncertain glint shone in her eyes. "I'll relay the news to you once I get back. After all, you have a social gathering to go today, right?"

"Oh! Well, I've decided not to go. A letter came in a few days ago…some of my old friends are visiting Poltin and they brought some gifts for our wedding," she said hastily.

"Poltin?" Poltin was a city that sat on the border of the Empire. It was a fairly popular trading hub and was frequented often by foreigners. Crowfeather frowned thoughtfully. If Feathertail had foreign friends, why would she keep the mention of them away from her? In addition to this, why would she choose to inform him  _today_  that she wasn't going to attend the social gathering she had spent all week preparing for?

"Are they staying long? I'd love to meet them." He was lying through his teeth now, but he couldn't push down the rising feelings of suspicion at the mention of Feathertail's trip. There was something else involved, wasn't there? Was she keeping something more than a lover from him? "My matters with your father won't take very long; I'd be back by tomorrow. Why don't we go together? I'm sure your friends would be interested in meeting your fiancé." The words came out dry and dull, but they seemed to agitate Feathertail regardless.

"No, they're not going to be staying for very long," she protested, "I can't ask them to wait—they've been asking for me for quite a while now."

"Quite a while? And you've never told me about these requests?"

"You've been busy lately and I…" she shook her head. "It must've slipped my mind."

Feathertail was definitely hiding something from him, but he quickly dismissed the thought of following her to Poltin. He didn't really want to withhold his decision on the marriage from Graystripe for any longer and he didn't want to make Feathertail any more uncomfortable than she already was. After all, a small part of him still loved her. "Then we'll talk when you get back. When will you be back?"

"In a few days or so," she told him, chewing on her lower lip. Crowfeather was struck by the sudden desire to kiss her, but quickly restrained himself when he saw her shift nervously. He offered her a small smile before taking a step back.

"Alright…I'll see you in a week, then." He nodded to her. "Have fun…in Poltin." He heard her door shut rather quickly when he turned away from her and the nagging feeling inside him grew until he couldn't help but throw a glance over his shoulder. What exactly was Feathertail planning? Was she meeting with someone she didn't want him to know of? Was it with Stormfur, who had somehow disappeared without a trace a few months ago? Why would she try to hide her brother from him?

With a sigh, Crowfeather waved to one of his coachmen and waited as his servants prepared his carriage. He was uncomfortable with meeting Graystripe at the Zephyra manor, but seeing as how the gray-haired aristocrat lived there, there was no other way to find him. After his dream, Crowfeather had no idea how he was going to face Leafpool. How had she been these past few months, when he had only caught glimpses of her during social gatherings? Regardless, one thought rang clearly in his head as he steeled himself for the ride over.  _Avoidance is not key._

* * *

 

Third Person – Leafpool

It had been a pleasant surprise when Featherpelt arrived out of nowhere, glowing radiantly. She hadn't expected him to visit so suddenly—after all, they usually arranged their meetings based on how busy their schedules were. Ever since Featherpelt was informed that he would be Whiteear's successor, he had been attached to the shopkeeper's hip, diligently learning everything there was to being a jeweler. Although Leafpool had missed him, Littlecloud and Cinderpelt had both been chipping away at her free time, dragging her to and from various cities for scientific lectures, volunteer work, and meetings with the medicinal community. In fact, the two friends had been so busy that they barely were able to celebrate each other's birthdays. It was only recently that Leafpool had passed her seventeenth birthday, and even then, the two of them couldn't find the time to celebrate together.

What was even more shocking was when Featherpelt announced that he had been married for eighteen months already and that next time Leafpool visited the Red Sapphire, she would be meeting the latest addition to his family. A part of her twisted with guilt for being unable to attend either Featherpelt's wedding or the birth of Patchwing, but the blond man quickly reassured her that there would be more memories to come.

"And you, how have you been doing?" He squeezed her hand firmly as they stepped into the manor house.

"I've been doing fine," Leafpool murmured. He was most likely referring to her emotional state of mind and her love life, but she quickly danced around the subject. "Did you know that Astertail and Cinderpelt have been drinking tea together? I think they're courting—unofficially, that is." The gray-haired aristocrat continued to deny any questions regarding a romantic relationship, but Astertail's shy flush each time someone asked drove the servants into a mischievous flurry. "Cinderpelt's set on denying everything, but everyone's convinced she'll give in sooner or later."

"About time," Featherpelt snorted, knocking his shoulder against Leafpool's. "Anyway, you've become quite a legend amongst the peasantry. I've been hearing stories left and right about your generosity."

"It's all Littlecloud," Leafpool laughed. "He's the one who taught me how to work on the streets. Besides, I like charity work. Not everyone can afford to have a doctor, after all." The two of them continued their walk in silence, basking in each other's presence as they stepped into the manor house. Just as she was about to offer him a late lunch in the dining room, the sound of shouting filled the air. The two of them exchanged concerned looks and quickly ascended the staircase. Squirrelflight, who exited the library just as they reached the second floor, shot a curious look down the hallway at Graystripe's door.

The aristocrat's door slammed open and Crowfeather headed out, a furious Graystripe close behind. "How can you do this to her?" The older man yelled after the retreating Ebenwing aristocrat. "Do you know how much this is going to hurt her?"

"I'm doing this to keep her from getting hurt in the future!"

"And you had to wait three years to tell me this?"

"Would you rather I had rushed into the marriage with Feathertail? Then we'd both be stuck in a relationship that neither of us wants! I'm giving her another chance to marry the person she truly loves!"

"That person is you!" Leafpool looked uncertainly at Featherpelt and Squirrelflight, only to find her confusion being reflected in their eyes. Crowfeather, who had raised his voice and whirled around to face Graystripe, deflated visibly.

"That person is  _not_  me." Graystripe, who had also been on the edge of his temper, faltered at Crowfeather's words. "Feathertail and I…it's not the same as it used to be. We can't be who  _I_ wanted us to be. She's been hiding things from me and just earlier she rushed out to meet someone and she refused to let me go with her." The younger man hesitated. "I still love her, Graystripe. But I'm not sure if it's the love either of us wants. I can't force her into a relationship like that." His blue eyes were strained as he dropped his head. "I hope you understand."

"I'm going to have a talk with Feathertail when she gets back," Graystripe murmured after a few minutes of silence. "If what you're saying is true and the love you share isn't truly what either of you want…then I will dissolve your engagement."

"Thank you." Crowfeather's eyes lit up in a mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and wariness when he caught sight of Leafpool and the others. His gaze swept over Featherpelt and Squirrelflight rather quickly before lingering on Leafpool for a few moments.

"Crowfeather, what exactly is going on?" Squirrelflight stepped forward hesitantly as Graystripe slunk back into his bedroom. The Ebenwing aristocrat stared at her for a few moments before responding.

"I'm breaking off my engagement with Feathertail. It turns out that neither of us really knew what we were getting into with."

"So you're just going break it off like that? How can you do that? Don't you know that she loves you?" Squirrelflight pressed, a look of disbelief crossing her face. The redhead flinched and took a step back when Crowfeather turned on her, his icy eyes blazing.

"I'll tell you this, Squirrelflight; Feathertail may have loved me but I was nothing more than a friend to her! At most, a younger sibling!" His gaze darkened and he looked away. "I was never a man in her eyes. And besides, I'm not breaking her heart," he mumbled. "I'm fixing mine."

Leafpool felt a wave of shock crash over her when he raised his eyes to meet hers. They were somber and wistful, laced with wariness and longing. She felt a shiver run up her spine as he took a step toward her. He bowed his head and brushed past her, his touch leaving trails of fire on her skin. She turned to see him head down the spiral staircase as her voice refused to cooperate with her.

But what could she say?  _Can I love you?_  The voice in her heart offered.  _Can I care?_ She gazed after him until he disappeared from sight, and it was only then that she felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of her head. She turned to see Squirrelflight staring at her with wide eyes.  _She knew._  Suddenly exhausted, Leafpool dropped her head and released a long sigh. It was a secret she had hidden for too long. After a few seconds, she raised her gaze to her sister and offered her a half-hearted smile. "I suppose you want an explanation."

 

* * *

Third Person – Squirrelflight

It had been a shock to discover that her sister was in love with Crowfeather. She should've known—after all, the two of them seemed to hover in the general proximity of the other during social gatherings. That and the calm ease the two addressed each other with. She had brushed off their relationship as that of friendship, but there had been signs hovering over her head and she had been too blind to see it. Somewhere between now and when their parents had their fallout, Leafpool had fallen head over heels for Crowfeather.

She had been startled to learn that Featherpelt was one of the few souls who knew of Leafpool's feelings, but what had hurt the most was that the brunette hadn't trusted her enough to say something about it. "I didn't want to worry you," was the excuse that Leafpool had given her yesterday. "I knew you were happy for Feathertail and Crowfeather…and I didn't want to complicate anything."

Squirrelflight was terrified of the increasing rift between herself and her sister. Leafpool had always been her rock, the one person she could depend on. She had the ability to take in all of Squirrelflight's flaws and accept them wholeheartedly without a single complaint. But after yesterday's revelation, the redhead realized that she didn't know her sister as well as she had initially thought. She misunderstood just how selfless the brunette could be and just how dark her fears were. Leafpool knew more about Squirrelflight than Squirrelflight knew Leafpool, and that imbalance created a crutch for the brunette, one that rendered her unable to fully confide in anyone.

Squirrelflight was disgusted with herself. Who was she to think that she knew everything about her sister when she hadn't noticed the love Leafpool carried for Crowfeather for three odd years? _I never knew_ , she thought bitterly,  _all this time, she must've been suffering. I've been piling my problems on her without even seeing if she needed me in any way._  She dropped her head onto her knees.  _I'm a horrible sister._

"Hey." Squirrelflight's head flew up in surprise at the sound of a familiar voice. Brambleclaw stood before her, a small, crooked smile on his face. An offering of friendship. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest. Oh how she had missed him.

"Hey," she replied softly. "Wanna sit?" She patted the log invitingly and felt the world sink into an awkward silence as the two of them sat together. She studied the grass by her feet until she felt him prod her with his elbow. Shooting him a confused look, she blinked when he pushed his plateful of food into her hands.

"Eat," he told her. His amber eyes darkened with concern. "You have the best cooks in the Empire and you're not eating anything?" Squirrelflight was about to snip at him for giving her a plate with his choice of food before realizing that every food item was something she liked. Her heart warmed at the image of him hovering in the kitchen, picking out every little tidbit he thought she would enjoy. Gently taking the offered fork from his hand, she deposited a bite of chicken into her mouth. A small smile crossed her face at the smoky sweetness of the meat and she let out a long sigh, feeling the burden on her shoulders ease slightly.

She felt the nervous air around Brambleclaw relax as she continued to eat, savoring each bite with the knowledge that each one was picked for her enjoyment. When she was finished, she gave him a warm smile. "Thanks," she whispered. "I really needed a friend." He returned the tender look before an uncertain light filled his eyes.

"Would you need anything more than a friend?"

Squirrelflight felt time slow to as she stared at Brambleclaw, taking in all that he was. She studied the curve of his jaw, the delicate line of his mouth, and the tempting softness of his hair. She traced the slope of his nose, the arch of his brow, and the swirl of amber in his eyes. He was frustration mixed with satisfaction, everything yet nothing, and the most stubborn man she had ever had the pleasure of meeting.

While time seemed to stop for her, it most definitely did not for Brambleclaw. "I'm sorry." He turned away, flustered, and Squirrelflight managed to knock herself back into reality just in time to catch his hand in hers. He flinched at the contact, but she tightened her fingers around him, gently tugging him back to her. When he finally turned to look at her, she gave him a small smile.

"Don't be." She squeezed his hand gently. "I—"

"Squirrelflight! I wanted to—" Ashfur broke off, staring at their interlocked hands. H gave Brambleclaw a disbelieving look before turning the same gaze to Squirrelflight. She regarded him coolly, unable to feel anything more than a muted twinge of guilt when he tore away from the scene with a choked gasp.

"You should go after him," Brambleclaw croaked, trying to pry himself away.

"Why should I?"

"Because…" The brunet hesitated. "Because he loves you," he blurted out.

"I know." Squirrelflight tightened her fingers around his hand, fearful that he would reject her. "But I don't love him." Gazing up at him, she gave him a weak smile. " _It's always been you._ "

Under Brambleclaw's stare, Squirrelflight found herself losing hope. She withdrew her hand slowly, only to freeze when his tightened around hers. She let out a small squeak of surprise when she was suddenly pulled to her feet and wrapped in his arms. The plate she had been holding clattered as it hit the ground, but the sound of Brambleclaw's heartbeat was all Squirrelflight could hear. "Is it too late?" she asked softly.  _Is it too late to ask for your heart?_

"Just in time," he replied hoarsely, resting his head where her shoulder met her neck. "May I court you, Squirrelflight?"

"You might as well marry me," she snorted, smiling to herself when she saw his ears turn red. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, she leaned back to nuzzle their noses together.

"So it's a yes?" His amber eyes were pleading.

"Well, seeing as to how I just proposed," She mused, leaning closer to him, "I'm pretty sure it's a yes."

 

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

She nearly fell into Tawnypelt when someone pushed past her rather roughly. A hoarse "sorry" was tossed over the culprit's shoulder as he disappeared into the direction of the manor houses. Leafpool stared after the person before looking back at Tawnypelt, whose shocked expression mirrored hers.

"Was that Ashfur?"

"Sure looked like it," the Herobexy aristocrat muttered. "What is he doing—tearing off like there's a rabid dog chasing after him?" She shook her head at him before glancing in the direction he had come from. "Oh."

"Oh?" Leafpool followed Tawnypelt's gaze in confusion. Her amber eyes widened at the sight of Brambleclaw embracing Squirrelflight. " _Oh._ "

"Finally," the Herobexy aristocrat huffed. "I was wondering when the two of them would come to their senses." She winked at Leafpool playfully. "But knowing my brother, he's probably going to do the traditional approach of asking  _everyone_  in your family for permission to court her."

" _Including_ Graystripe?" At Tawnypelt's affirmative nod, Leafpool threw her head back with a laugh. "Should I pretend to refuse?"

"That would be funny, but they'll take it the wrong way if you do that."

"I suppose so."

"Oh look, here comes my brother. Try not to break his spirits, okay?" Tawnypelt teased.

"We'll see." Leafpool tittered back.

"Leafpool!"  _The moment of truth_ , the brunette thought bemusedly to herself as Brambleclaw neared. Following closely behind was Squirrelflight, who eyed her suspiciously.  _Ah, of course she suspects me._  "Can I have your permission to court your sister?"

"I don't know; can you?" Leafpool gave into the temptation of teasing him, ignoring the amused snort from Tawnypelt and the exaggerated eye-roll from her sister. Brambleclaw looked startled at first, but relaxed when he saw the playfulness of her grin. He let out a huff before shaking his head fondly at her. "Welcome to the family, Brambleclaw."

"'Welcome to the family'?" Tawnypelt repeated. "Shouldn't I be saying 'welcome to the family, Squirrelflight'?"

"What, you thought I was marrying in?" Squirrelflight smirked at the brunette. "Brambleclaw here is going to be my bride."

"Squirrelflight!" Leafpool couldn't help but laugh at the horrified flush that appeared across Brambleclaw's cheeks and Tawnypelt quickly joined in on the chuckles. As Leafpool gazed at her sister, a warm smile fitted itself onto her face. Finally, it seemed everything was beginning to fall in place for the volatile redhead.

 

* * *

Third Person – Cinderpelt

At age thirty-one, Cinderpelt had grown sick and tired of people advising her to settle down. At the Zephyra manor, she had an overprotective Firestar hovering over her, constantly worrying about her bachelorette status. If to make it worse, the other aristocrats also jumped into the fray, constantly interfering in her everyday life to push her towards the prospect of marriage. When she left the manor house to attend meetings with the mediator group or with the medicinal community, she would be pestered by the older members on the matter. Even the shopkeepers in Lilystone were starting to bring up prospective romantic partners whenever she dropped by to stock up on her wares. Whenever she visited her brother at the house of Larixmin, he and his wife would frequently discuss bachelor aristocrats in her presence, even planning meetings so she could meet whomever they were discussing.

It seemed like the only place she could escape to these days was Astertail's cabin. He frequently welcomed her with open arms, even requesting her visits whenever she made a trip to Lilystone. Before long, she had taken to sitting beside him while he drove the carriage, making the whole point of the coach useless aside from carrying groceries to and from the manor house. Their meetings usually drew a lot of attention from the staff and the Zephyra aristocrats, but Cinderpelt couldn't find herself to despise the interest her relationship with Astertail drew. After all, it was teasing rumors that made the brunet coachman blush his trademark shade of red.

"Cinderpelt, would you like something to drink?" She snapped out of her reverie, quickly reminding herself where she was as Astertail crossed the living room to reach the kitchen.

"Yes please." She quietly seated herself in her usual seat at his table, letting out a long sigh as the familiar scents overtook her. She looked around his cottage, reacquainting herself with the sight. It was a cozy home with a small living room, tiny kitchen, and a narrow hallway. The hallway most likely led to Astertail's bedroom and bathroom (which Cinderpelt guessed were as small and cramped as the rest of the cabin). The walls were made of sturdy wood, the furniture worn but comfy, and the overall decoration meager but homey. While Cinderpelt's room and access to the manor house far outweighed Astertail's in terms of luxury and space, she couldn't help but feel that his home was much more personable than what she had available to her.

The mapping of the Zephyra grounds was simple in terms of the buildings. Manor servants such as maids and butlers were housed on the third floor of the manor in small rooms. The larger quarters on the third floor were given to few tutors that educated Squirrelflight and Leafpool and the stablemen (including coachmen and grooms) were given complexes a ways off from the manor house. According to Sandstorm, only the most privileged or married servants were allowed to have a cabin like Astertail's.

He was a favorite, after all. He had a magical way with the horses, often taming the beasts whenever they got too out of hand. It was rare for them to lash out at him although it was well-known how high-strung spirited horses could be. He was the most frequently requested coachman whenever there was a need for a carriage and he was one of the most-liked stablemen in Zephyra's service.

Astertail set a steaming cup of tea before her and she snapped out of her reverie to give him a small smile. He returned the gestured shyly, his movements calm as he slid into the seat across from her. She could remember their first few meetings, when he fretted and became flustered over the smallest of things. It was comforting to know that he had become more at ease in her presence than before.

The corners of her lips quirked up when she took a small sip of her tea. It hadn't taken her a long time to realize that Astertail was quite knowledgeable when it came to tea and other caffeinated beverages. He had admitted that he was raised on tea and had grown so fond of it that he eventually began studying the various qualities and flavors of the different leaves. It seemed that he had done his research well, seeing that his stores were often made of the richest and most flavorful teas.  _He most likely spends the majority of his paycheck on these tea leaves_ , Cinderpelt mused, taking another sip.  _I ought to purchase some as a gift for him…he has been providing me with tea for the past few months._  There was no doubt that his savings were dwindling with the pressure of having to provide enough tea for two people to drink.

Cinderpelt thumbed the rim of her teacup thoughtfully, slowly losing herself in the heady, amber liquid. Astertail's good mannerisms and overall likeability often made him the target of romance-seeking maids. After all, it had only been a few days ago when she had been somewhat confronted by a flustered maid on the status of her relationship with the groomsman. It had startled her to think that there were women pursuing him so diligently, yet at the same time, she should've expected how popular he was amongst the servants. It had made her heart twist uncomfortably in her chest; she knew of Astertail's interest in her, but she had yet to decide whether she wanted to fall in love with him or not.

He always seemed to understand what mood she was in, regardless of whether she spoke or not. It was in moments like these that she could sift through her thoughts and memories with the comfort of someone's presence without being expected to hold a conversation. The two of them finished their tea in silence and after a few moments of staring at the wood grain of Astertail's table, Cinderpelt decided that she had outstayed her visit. It was then that the brunet leapt to his feet, hastily brushing past her to show her to the door. It was something that he insisted on and it was an act of chivalry that she rarely saw between the servants of Zephyra manor.

She frowned when she saw him favoring a certain leg when he reached the door. When he turned around to face her, she confronted him. "Are you alright?"

"Huh?" He blinked at her before glancing embarrassedly at his leg. "Ah—yes; one of the horses threw a tantrum earlier and lashed out at me…I got out of the way in time, but I slipped on some loose hay and ended up doing something to my ankle." He wiggled it experimentally. "I'm sure it should be better in a day or two."

"Well if you keep putting weight on it without having consulted a doctor first, it won't," Cinderpelt argued. She put her hands on her hips and gave him a stern glare. "Sit  _down_ , Astertail. You have a doctor standing right in front of you and you couldn't think of asking her to check up on you?" He opened his mouth to protest, but she quickly ushered him to the couch and forced him to sit down. Kneeling before him, she carefully took his left leg into his hands, studying the ankle joint thoughtfully. After a few careful nudges and winces later, she determined that it was sprained at the most and would heal in a few days if cared for properly.

After locating the roll of bandages that was tucked into his bathroom, Cinderpelt took to wrapping his ankle, periodically checking to see if it would secure the joint yet allow some movement. "You've sprained your ankle, but if you keep strenuous activities to a minimum, you should be able to heal within a few days," she informed him as she tied the bandages securely. "It's a good thing that I got to you before you did anything to worsen your condition." Satisfied, she rose to her feet, carefully setting the bandages on his kitchen table. "I'll be back in a few days to check up on it," she informed him, heading for the door. "I'll tell Firestar that you'll be resting for the rest of the week. Take this time to recover, alright?"

"That won't be necessary; I'm still able to work," Astertail protested, struggling to his feet. "I'll be fine." Stifling a sigh, Cinderpelt rolled her eyes and turned to give him an exasperated look.

"Astertail, look at yourself! You can hardly walk without limping—" The brunet let out a yelp as he tumbled forward and Cinderpelt threw out her arms to catch him. She tut-tutted at him disapprovingly and shifted so he was more or less on his feet again. "See? This is exactly what I—"

Only a few inches separated their faces as they stared at each other. Astertail's eyes grew hazy for a second and before Cinderpelt knew it, timid lips pressed against hers. She stood in shock, mind struggling to process her disbelief and the sheer ecstasy of his plush mouth. He drew back after a few seconds before the dazed look was quickly replaced with horror. "I-I'm so sorry!" He stammered, reeling back. "I didn't mean—" His brown eyes widened in shock as he overbalanced and pitched backwards, feet sliding out from underneath him. Cinderpelt threw herself forward to catch him and only ended up landing on top of him as he collapsed into an undignified heap on the sofa.

When the two of them gathered their bearings, Cinderpelt felt her own cheeks heat up when she saw Astertail's face turn red at their close proximity. She had practically fallen on top of him, unintentionally pressing every inch of their body together in her haste to catch him again. Before she could tear herself away, his brown eyes flickered hastily between their bodies with a mist of longing before returning to her face. Heat pooled in her stomach and she closed the gap, swallowing his gasp as she reunited their lips in fluttering dance.

Cinderpelt had been kissed in a variety of ways in her life. When she was younger, Littlecloud had kissed her shyly on the cheek after she bandaged his scraped knee. Whiteear often pecked her on the forehead and Brackenfur would occasionally press a kiss to her temple whenever they shared a fond sibling moment. Featherpelt, Squirrelflight, and Leafpool often kissed her on the cheek as a thank-you and Firestar sometimes brushed his lips against her forehead fondly, most likely reliving the years he had mentored her in fighting. Her mother kissed and coddled her frequently in her childhood and the few men she had attempted to court had kissed her on the lips. Of course, a chaste kiss was the furthest most of them ever got before they became displeased with her inflexible working schedule and lack of interest in their relationship.

Cinderpelt was not a stranger to kisses, but there was something so genuine and  _new_  in Astertail's. They drew her breath away, twisting it coyly with his as adrenaline coursed through her veins and tickled at her stomach. She felt him stiffen at her kiss but felt her uncertainty fade away when he returned it tentatively.

It had only felt like a few seconds when they separated, gazing dazedly into each other's eyes. "Cinderpelt…?" he murmured nervously when she pulled back to stare at him thoughtfully.

"Have you kissed other people before?"

"Once," he admitted, glancing to the side. "A friend of mine's sister kissed me at my twenty-fifth birthday."

"And since then?" She pressed gently. She felt a twinge of disappointment at the realization that she hadn't been his first, but quickly pushed it aside. After all, if he had only been kissed once before, she would be the one with the most experience in kissing.

"Well, I've loved you ever since."

Cinderpelt was floored. She had never imagined that he had seen her so lovingly for three years. After all, she had only become aware of his feelings a year ago, when Whiteear had not-so-discreetly pointed it out when he visited Zephyra manor for a dinner party. Astertail glanced shyly at her face, unsure of whether her silence was of pleasant disbelief or disapproval.

"Come with me to the manor," she whispered, pressing their foreheads together. She glanced pleadingly into his eyes. "Stay?"

"I-I don't know," he stammered, glancing down at his bandaged foot. "I might be a burden."

"But you'll be  _my_  burden." She nuzzled their noses together. "Pretty please?" It was quite uncommon for her to beg like this and by the swayed expression on Astertail's face, it was obvious that he knew. He nodded dazedly, breath catching slightly before her mouth descended on his again, pressing him firmly into the couch. When they parted again, he smiled shyly at her.

"I love you, Cinderpelt."

"I think I love you too." It was a start, but Astertail looked as if she had laid the world at his feet.

 

* * *

Third Person – Feathertail

_The world was on fire._  She dove to the side just as a supporting pillar toppled over, nearly pinning her to the ground. The sound of screams mingled with the smoke, turning the air into an intoxicating and volatile substance. Her head swam as she inhaled another lungful of contaminated air, blindly demanding that she move herself to a place where she could gather her thoughts. Unfortunately, buildings were collapsing left and right and Feathertail frequently found herself on the verge of being pinned with every step that she took.

_I should have never come_. But she had to. They had planned it out so carefully—with such meticulous care. They had been planning since the first word of her engagement with Crowfeather. At first, she had thought she could tolerate being married to the Ebenwing aristocrat, but before long, the truth made itself clear. She couldn't love two men at the same time.  _Starreign help me!_ She thought as she threw herself to the ground. A burning splinter grazed her arm and landed on her clothes, nearly catching the fabric on fire.

Why would Starreign help her now, after what she'd done? She was weak for being unable to stand up against Leopardpelt and Crookedstar. She was heartless for using Crowfeather as an illusion to hide her affair. She was cruel for using her brother's absence as a shield to postpone her wedding.

_Stormfur, where are you?_  Her heart had been shattered when his disappearance was announced. He had always been her pillar of support and when he vanished, she felt her walls crumble into nothingness. She was terrified—who would be there to urge her on, silently, from the shadows? Who would support her through thick-and-thin, regardless of the consequences? Who would stand by her side when the world turned against her?

The sound of crying filled the air and she turned to see three children huddled against the remnants of a home.  _What are they doing? They should be running!_  Feathertail leapt forward, circling them in her arms just as a bloodcurdling scream ripped the sky in two. Her skin prickled at the reminder that the cry had brought her. The barbarians who lit the town on fire were still roaming the streets. Had the children run out of the burning neighborhood, they would've been killed by a charging foreigner.

_Starreign, if you can't save me, please save these children!_  She threw herself over them, praying that she would be able to shield them from the barbarians. The three children struggled against her at first before realizing that she was sheltering them from whatever dangers lurked in the burning world around them. They sobbed uncontrollably into the ragged remains of her dress, holding her close as she looked frantically around them, trying to find an escape route.

A familiar flash of gray caught her eye as she studied the blazing world around her.  _Could that be?_  "Stormfur!" She yelled desperately, tightening her hold on the children. She was making herself a larger target by calling out, but if her brother was truly here… "Stormfur! Please, are you out there?" Tears pooled in her eyes as she choked on her next breath. Where was he? She couldn't do this alone. "Stormfur! Stormf—"  _Crack_. Feathertail felt her eyes roll into the back of her head as she slumped forward. A heavy weight rested on her head and back, pinning her against the wall. She was faintly aware of the children squirming out from underneath her as something warm trickled down her cheek.  _Don't go out there_ , she cried out.  _You'll be killed._

Her head swam as ominous shadows curled around her, wreathing like a pit of snakes. Feathertail was no doctor, but she was running out of time.  _Oh Starreign_ , she thought bitterly,  _I couldn't tell Crowfeather that I was sorry._ There was so much regret in her life from being unable to resist Leopardpelt and Crookedstar's criticism, being so untrustworthy that her brother would disappear on her without a word, and casting Crowfeather aside as an unwanted puppet.  _I'm so sorry,_  she cried helplessly.  _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. If only none of this had ever happened._

" _Feathertail?_ " She heard someone call her name faintly. " _Feathertail, it's me! Stormfur! Where are you_?"

" _Get back inside, Stormfur!_ " An unfamiliar female voice called out. " _You can't let them see you!_ "

" _You don't understand, Brook! My sister's out there—_ "

The world faded around her and she felt the last few shards of warmth escape from her body. Death wasn't like falling through a bottomless pit, she realized. It was like sinking into the ocean, gently being pressed toward the seafloor by gentle hands until you rested gently on the bottom. Closing her eyes, Feathertail surrendered to the tender caresses allowing herself to be taken further and further away from the life she left behind.

 

* * *

_It was dark, dim, and chilling. Feathertail shivered, the shimmering aura flexing around her uneasily. The darkness around her was unforgiving, curling curious tendrils around her limbs before snaking off when her aura lashed out. She examined her new body curiously—she had woken to find herself in the body of a cat. "Well lookie here." She flinched at the bemused, wicked lull of an unfamiliar voice. Two cats stepped out of the darkness, circling around her like a pack of wolves. A third appeared a few heartbeats later, his amber eyes turning Feathertail's blood to ice._

_"The second halfblood," the newcomer mused, curling his dark tail around his paws. "Dying in an act of honor again. But this time you weren't as careful, were you?" His amber eyes narrowed thoughtfully at her. "After all, that's the only explanation for your appearance here." He bowed his head mockingly. "How humbling," he rumbled softly, "to have the righteous, selfless Feathertail visit our Dark Forest."_

_"She doesn't remember us," a dark brown tom pointed out. His whiskers twitched irritably at her._

_"I'm very well aware of that, Darkstripe," the first tom replied coolly. "However, that makes it easier for us to recruit her." A wicked leer replaced the icy chill of his eyes. "Starclan had done its best to wipe you of your past memories, but…they obviously were not expecting our interference, were they?" He stepped toward her, his curved claws gleaming in the dull light. "What will it be, Feathertail?"_

_"You'll keep your claws off of my daughter, that's what," a low growl cut through the darkness. All four cats turned to see a glowing she-cat stalk forward, blue eyes ablaze as she pinned the first tom with her glare. "Leave us be, Tigerstar. Take refuge in your dark forest and never return! You have taken enough lives as is." The amber-eyed tom scowled at the newcomer, tail-tip twitching irritably._

_"I will do no such thing, Silverstream," he snapped. "This is not your domain. You endanger yourself by stepping out here alone."_

_"Thank you for your concern," the she-cat replied smoothly, "but I am never alone. Starreign protects me just as Starclan had in the life before."_

_"If they're protecting you like you say so," Tigerstar rumbled, "then why did they let you die a second time?" He stepped forward threateningly. "Of the same cause? You died giving birth to your bastard children."_

_"The same 'bastard' child you tried recruiting just seconds ago." Silverstream's lip curled to reveal pointed teeth. "Do not speak harshly of those you wish to persuade." Her head lifted proudly in the air. "I am not regretful of giving my life for my daughter. She is no 'bastard' child." She glowered at him, her aura sparking around her. "Leave us at once!"_

_The three cats glowered at Silverstream before slinking away into the shadows. The silver she-cat glared after them before turning her bright blue gaze onto her daughter. "Feathertail, come with me now; before more Dark Forest cats appear!"_

_Feathertail rose to her feet immediately, racing after Silverstream as the silver-she cat led her away from the dark forest. The two of them slowed when they reached a beautiful grassland and Feathertail turned to face the cat who claimed to be her mother. "Are you really my mother?"_

_"I am." Silversteam's whiskers twitched in amusement. "You must be confused as to why your mother would ever be a cat, but there's a clear explanation for it. Have you ever had dreams of the forest? Of running through open plains, fishing with your paws, and sleeping under the stars?"_

_"Yes." Feathertail was a bit unnerved by how accurately and easily the she-cat pinpointed her dreams, but she quickly brushed that thought aside._

_"That's because everyone in the Empire was a cat in their past life. It was getting too chaotic on the planet we were living on—Earth, I think—and Starclan transferred us to a world where twolegs couldn't destroy any more of our homes. Interestingly enough, the transfer turned us into the very creatures we were escaping. But we took a different name from 'twoleg' and adopted 'human'._

_"Starclan blessed this ground and forged the Empire on it. In order to keep the close ties with themselves and the new 'humans', they required at least one of the leaders to be bound to the earth. In other words, they created the role of the Gaian King," Silverstream explained. "Starclan changed their name to Starreign and has been with us since. When a human dies in the Empire, he or she will return to his or her original cat form and live as a cat in Starreign."_

_"Are only Emperians cats? I don't think the forest could've populated so many other nations." There were many countries larger than the Empire and Featherpelt's head spun at the thought of so many cats living in the same forest._

_"Only a small percentage of Emperians have been cats," Silverstream purred, narrowing her eyes in amusement. "The Empire started as a small kingdom in a large land. Before long, there were foreigners migrating in and our country became what it is today." Her tail tip twitched thoughtfully. "Our memories from our past life come back when we die, but Starreign had placed sanctions in place to specifically block our past memories from influencing our lives as humans. There quite a few things we do similarly from our past lives, but there are many new practices that challenge former teachings. Take medicine cats for example—although they are still able to communicate to Starreign and have access to memories, they are able to fall in love."_

_The silver she-cat paused for a second, studying her daughter intently. "Feathertail, would you like to regain your memories?"_

_"Of course."_

_Silverstream pressed her muzzle against Feathertail's forehead. Feathertail felt a stab of pain before a flood of memories coursed through her mind. She saw glimpses of a gray tom curled protectively around her and her brother, his thick pelt alienating him from the sleek-furred Riverclan cats. She remembered being taken captive by Tigerclan and watching Stonefur trade his life for theirs. She remembered rushing over the steppingstones to reach Thunderclan, where Firestar would provide sanctuary until Riverclan came back to its senses and tore itself away from Tigerclan._

_She could feel Crowfeather's scent linger over her as she watched him press up against her in her memories, his icy blue eyes softened by the love he held for her. She remembered the rush she would feel whenever he brushed up against her or intertwined their tails._ I loved him back then, _she mused woefully._ But why not now? _The world around her turned dark as she found herself falling again, glaring into the depths of Sharptooth's fearful amber eyes as she loosened the rock that would take both their lives away. She remembered the torn look in Crowfeather's eyes as he gazed at Leafpool and how her heart had twisted painfully in her chest._

Let him go _, the voices had whispered into her ear._ Let him go.  _Was that what she did in this life? Did she finally let him go?_

_Silverstream was standing patiently beside her when she finished cycling through her memories. "Why was it all so different?" Feathertail asked._

_"The life you were granted on Zendiria is supposed to be another chance," the she-cat replied. "You never loved Crowfeather as much as he loved you in this life. Similarly, he never loved you as much as he did in his past life." Her blue eyes softened in sympathy when Feathertail stared at her paws. "The two of you drifted apart, Feathertail, and sometimes that drift is alright. Crowfeather is being given another chance to fall in love with Leafpool, Our medicine cats have been suffering for a long time…and Starreign was aware that many of them were being driven into madness by the strictness of their rules. They changed their ways to give cats like Mothwing, Cinderpelt, and Littlecloud an opportunity to create a family without a punishment to follow."_

_"Did you love my father as much as you loved him before?" Everything seemed to be spiraling out of control. There was a terrifying loss-of-identity crisis tearing Feathertail's mind apart as she tried to separate herself from the past. She needed something to hold on to._

_Silverstream shook her head slowly and Feathertail's heart plummeted._

_"I loved him far more than I loved him before. But sometimes there are things that Starreign just can't change." Silverstream gazed down at her body. "I had a weak body—one that wasn't meant to bear children. But at the same time, I wanted to have you and Stormfur so desperately…" She trailed off, curling her tail protectively over her stomach. "It was a risk worth dying for." A bittersweet look crossed Silverstream's face. "However, my father seems to have been the same rabbitbrain has he had in the past life," she sniffed distastefully. "He should've let you marry whoever you pleased."_

_Feathertail chuckled at the fond expression on her mother's face before her thoughts dragged her back to what had happened moments before._

_"Why did I end up in the Dark Forest? I thought I would be transported here immediately…" She could faintly recall waking up in the warm meadows of Starclan after killing Sharptooth._

_"The Dark Forest is rising again," Silverstream murmured warily. "However, this time, we'll be able to defeat them more easily than before." Her blue eyes gleamed with determination as she straightened her back slightly. "The next Gaian king will lead us against the dark forest. Starreign is much more powerful than what Starclan could've ever been." She blinked at Feathertail, who seemed slightly awed yet overwhelmed by the rush of information. "Anyway, I think that's enough background for now. Why don't we grab something for you to eat and then we can talk for a while longer. We can even visit Leafpool in her dreams, if you'd like."_

_"Leafpool's a doctor?"_

_"She's technically a mediator—mediators are the few doctors that actually access their memories before death—but Starreign wants to withhold them from her. If you haven't forgotten, she's had a rather distressing life." Silverstream blinked at the gurgling noise Feathertail's stomach made and twitched her whiskers in amusement. Feathertail wrapped her tail bashfully over her paws but threw in one last concerned question._

_"And Stormfur? Is he alright?"_

_"Stormfur is alive and well," Silverstream reassured her. "If he is not present in our ranks, then he is undoubtedly alive. We can check up on him later." Her eyes twinkled with laughter when Feathertail's stomach grumbled again. "Now, let's get you some food before your stomach wakes up the elders," she teased._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a quick side note/sneak peek into the later chapters. There are going to be some "political" things discussed within this story, and I know that most people find politics to be boring. I did my best to keep it interesting, but the main reason for the politics is to further world build and really paint a picture of how the Empire is run. I hope they aren't too dry for your (the readers) tastes, and I hope you enjoy them as they crop up in the following chapters.
> 
> Thanks!


	11. Songfic Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of songfics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who kudoed/commented!
> 
> I felt a bit overwhelmed by the story so far and I decided to take a little break with a few songfic challenges. I hope you guys don't mind this small break, but the chapter next week will definitely pick off from where we left off.

Best Love Song – T-Pain

Crowfeather's cheeks burned with embarrassment as he stole glances at the girl who stood next to him. It had been a daring move to invite Leafpool to a school dance despite both of their reputations for being introverts. His initial question had been hastily drawn during lunchtime, far away from the prying ears of Squirrelflight and her friends. It hard earned mutual blushes and stammering on both side before Leafpool shyly accepted his invitation. His circle of friends had been shocked by his decision—after all, they had all expected him to ask Feathertail to the dance after years of teasing him for his childhood obsession with her.

Casting another look at Leafpool, Crowfeather couldn't help but blame himself for the wistful expression on the brunette's eyes as she gazed at the dancing crowd. Staring into the mass of dancers, he could recognize Squirrelflight as she swayed from side to side with Tawnypelt, laughing at something someone said. The thought of joining the undoubtedly sweaty and breathless crowd was unappealing to him, but he couldn't help but wonder how Leafpool would feel in his arms, cheeks flushed with excitement and laughter as they explored the dance floor—

Deciding to make a decision before his uncertain, pessimistic side would take over him again, he murmured a quick, "I'll be back," to Leafpool before heading over to where the DJ was sitting. "Hey, can you play this song for me?" The man cocked an eyebrow at the furious blush Crowfeather was sporting, but smiled knowingly when he read the hastily scrawled song name.

"You got it." Snapping his fingers, he spoke into the microphone, low and sensual as he announced the transition of music from fun and flirty to romantic and heartfelt. Red-faced, Crowfeather stalked back over to Leafpool and thrust his hand out in front of him.

She glanced nervously between his hand and his sheepish expression before he gathered up the courage and mumbled, "Wanna dance?" Sporting a similar blush on her own face, she nodded and slipped her hands into his as he led her onto the dance floor, the crowd shifting to accommodate two new dancers. The two of them danced awkwardly at first, each person mentally taking note of what the people around them were doing and incorporating it in their own dance.

There was a churning pit of uncertainty in his stomach again. Either way, he fought the tickling sensation and leaned forward, resting their foreheads together. Leafpool's cheeks turned even redder at the intimacy of the gesture but she didn't pull away. "You know," he whispered, "I've loved you for a long time." Embarrassed by the forwardness of his words, Crowfeather scowled, turning his head away as the flush traveled up his neck and gathered in his cheeks.  _Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , he thought to himself.  _You came on too strong!_

He had been so absorbed with mentally cursing himself that he jumped when he felt Leafpool's fingers press against his jaw lightly. He turned back to face her, the confused expression on his face melting into shock when she pressed her lips shyly to his. Pulling back after a few seconds, she glanced up at him through her light brown eyelashes and gave him a hesitant smile. "Is it too late to say that I have too?"

Crowfeather stared at her for a few long moments before a small smile graced his lips and he pressed his forehead back against her, relishing how her body relaxed against him.  _This was pretty embarrassing_ , he admitted to himself as the two of them swayed together, making their own impromptu slow dance even as the music adopted a faster rhythm.  _But completely worth it in the end._  Who knew; sometimes it was good to take risks like that.

* * *

My Life Would Suck Without You – Kelly Clarkson

Leafpool sighed when she saw Crowfeather standing on her front porch. "You said you were leaving," she mumbled. The dark haired boy twitched at her words, but he continued to stare at her, unashamed.

"So?" Gritting her teeth, she continued.

"You said you were tired."

"That's what I thought too." A jolt of pain raced up her spine at his words.  _Is that so…?_  "But as you can see," he murmured, taking a step closer to her. "I came running home to you." She stiffened at his closeness and turned her head away angrily.

"This can't go on," she grit out. "I can't deal with your disappearances and I can't do  _this_  anymore."

"Then don't do  _that_  anymore."  _Is that how it is?_  She glared angrily at him, disgusted and offended by his decision.  _Then don't expect me to take you back anymore. Don't come back to my door. I'm closing this door on you right—_ She broke off her thoughts, mind spiraling wildly as he dropped on one knee before her. "So let's do  _this_  instead."

She stared at the velvet box nestled in his hands; the silver band seemed to be mocking her from its home. She let out a dry laugh, covering her eyes with one hand as she looked away from him. What did he expect of her, after all these years, after all this waiting, to say if he threw a ring in her face? It was just too much to take in at once.

"Hey." Calloused fingers touched her cheek lightly, turning her back around to face him. "Don't cry. Just say  _yes_." She choked back a sob at the sensation of his breath fanning over her cheek and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder.

"It's not that easy," she protested.

"It's never that easy," he agreed. "But will you have me?" He stepped back from her then, an uncertain gleam in his icy eyes. "I can't promise you everything, but…at least you'll have me." His voice faded into a whisper at his last words and Leafpool couldn't help but smile at the heat that radiated off of his cheeks.

"I'll have you," she croaked hoarsely, "if you're alright with me."

"Oh, trust me, I wouldn't have gone through this if I didn't think you were worth it," he snorted, pressing a kiss to her lips. Her amber eyes slid shut, fluttering slightly when she felt a cool metal band slip onto her ring finger. His thumb rubbed gently at her cheek, smoothing away the tears that had traversed her face just moments before.

"That was quite a proposal speech," she mumbled once they pulled apart. Crowfeather blinked at her before a brilliant red flush spread through his face, painting his ears and neck in the process.

"You know nothing can be rehearsed with you," he grumbled back, tightening his arms around her. He stared down at her, his expression sheepish but elated. "So when's the wedding?"

* * *

Why Don't You Love Me – Hot Chelle Rae

Leafpool stared at the alabaster white ceiling, barely noticing the moments as they raced by. Squirrelflight had tried to get her out of her room, but the brunette couldn't be coerced into leaving. Unsuccessful, the redhead quickly gave up and left Leafpool alone in her room, nursing a unrequited love for the boy that never looked her way.  _Why can't it be me?_ She thought as she retreated from her windowsill and curled up onto her bed.

She had waited months for him to turn around and realize just how intimate their connection was as friends. They had been supporting each other from the get-go, offering a shoulder to cry on and a friend to rely on. The small touches, the shy glances, and the affectionate gestures they shared had convinced her from a young age that there was something more to their relationship, something more than just friendship. So she waited eight long years, hoping that one day he would turn around and see her for what she stood in his life.

It was understandable how devastated she had become when Crowfeather showed up at lunch one day, hand-in-hand with Feathertail. The silver-haired girl was adored by the entire school, complimented frequently for her beauty and selflessness. She was the perfect girl that everyone either wanted to have or wanted to be. In comparison, everyone at their school fell short to Feathertail in both appearance and personality. What had shocked the entire university, however, was how happy the silver-haired woman was with an equally attractive but foul-mouthed individual. Crowfeather, who was famous for his quick tongue and blatantly honest words, stood as the object of affection for many superficial girls but was rarely considered by anyone as relationship material.

Leafpool closed her eyes and threw her arms up to cover her face. Despite her reluctance to admit to her beauty, she was well aware that she was a sought-after individual in their university. With big amber eyes and silky brown hair, she was often pursued by interested suitors. Although she listened to each one plead their case, she turned down all potential lovers with the excuse that she had yet to find interest in having a relationship with someone.

Had news gotten to Crowfeather that Leafpool wasn't interested in relationships? Had she dashed her own efforts to establish a romance with the person she loved dearly? With a low groan, she flipped onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow. What was she doing, moping and grumbling like an idiot?  _I love him_ , she thought miserably.  _I should at least make an effort to say so._

It seemed that there was no way to do it indiscreetly. She would have to confront him about it—preferably away from eavesdroppers and curious eyes. She couldn't stand and hope that one day, Crowfeather would look in her direction. She had to come out with her feelings and speak true to her heart. There was a large chance of rejection, especially due to the fact that he was currently involved with Feathertail, but it was a chance that she had to take.

* * *

More – Usher

_More_. His blood rushed through his veins, burning through his body as he drove to memorize her touch. When her fingertips trailed down his cheek, he turned to catch them with his lips, kissing them fervently, reverently, desperately.

"Crowfeather," the woman below him murmured, shivering as he gently nipped one of her wandering fingers. "Crowfeather." His breath fanned over her skin as he hovered over her, roaming her face with his hands and eyes. He felt her fingers linger hesitantly over one of his hands before pulling it over to her hip, encouraging him to explore her further. With a low rumble, he wrapped an arm around her, pleased as she arched to make room for him.

"Leafpool." He pressed her name into her skin with each kiss, tracing her jaw and tickling her neck. She did the same, targeting whatever skin was available to her. They crushed their bodies together, eliminating as much space as physically possible.

_More._  This wasn't enough. It still wasn't enough. Crowfeather was overwhelmed by the desire to merge the two of them completely, until her heart beat alongside—no— _as his_  and their souls were intertwined in an eternal dance within their shared body.

But that wouldn't do. He wouldn't be able to kiss her then, hold her in his arms, or card his fingers through her hair. Yet he continued to press against her, trying desperately to convince himself that this was for the best.

"I want to be your everything," he gasped when she nipped his manubrium. She paused at his collarbone, but carried on as he continued. "Every day, every breath; I want it to be mine." She mewled when he bit her shoulder. "I want your everything." He buried his head in the crook of her neck, overwhelmed and disgusted by his possessive instincts. Yet he couldn't stop himself from tugging at her clothes, silently pleading for her warmth just as a dying man would cry out for his family.

Her hands were tender when they touched the back of his neck, stroking the skin lightly as she tried to calm him down. When he entered a similar state of tranquility to hers, she brushed the hair out of his face, smiling gently as he raised himself on his elbows to hover over her. "Even though you can't have my past," she murmured softly, "you can have my future and all the memories to come." She hesitated before bringing one of his hands to rest on her abdomen. Blinking shyly at him, she whispered, "there's a piece of you and a piece of me growing in here. If this is the closest we can be together, please know that in many ways, we have become  _one_."

Crowfeather stared at her flat stomach, repeating her words in his head as he struggled to comprehend the depth of her message. When the realization clicked, he showered the uncertain woman in kisses, "thank you"s, and ran his hands lovingly over her abdomen. There was life growing underneath his hands, within their love, flourishing and rising and  _living_.

"Crowfeather," Leafpool murmured softly, taking his face in her hands. Her eyes glowed with a mixture of gratefulness and love. "Thank  _you_." A devious yet timid smile crossed her face. "After all, it takes two to tango."

"Well then, you can expect a lot more tangoing," he replied, smirking at the startled blush that covered her cheeks.

"You're a beast," she protested half-heartedly. "You always want more."

"Only from you.  _Always_  from you."

* * *

All the Right Moves – One Republic

Leafpool was thrown against the wall roughly, wincing as the familiar metallic taste of blood coated her tongue. She watched helplessly as people continued to invade the castle, forcing open doors and pushing aside whoever was in their way. She faintly heard the Queen's screams growing louder and louder with each passing second as the footsteps faded away from her. A dark figure stopped in front of her and she stared dazedly at it, head fuzzy from her collision with the wall.

"We warned you," the voice reminded her. A small sigh left her as she smiled bitterly at the man.

"If we go down," she whispered, repeating the words that had been engrained into her head, "then we go down with the queen."

His blue eyes flashed angrily at her words before he fell to his knees beside her. She let out a cry of protest when he lifted her into his arms, easily ignoring whatever weak punches she threw at him. After a few moments of half-hearted struggling, she quieted down, too exhausted and overwhelmed to fight any longer.

"No one here is going down but the Queen," he told her firmly. "Orders have been given to take down all those who are physically trying to defend that tyrant and the she-devil herself. No one else will be killed." His eyes softened when she looked up at him. "I'm sorry we couldn't save you sixteen years ago."

"At least it's not sixteen years later," she choked back. Ten of those sixteen years were spent being bruised and bloodied for tiny mistakes, imperfections, or whatever didn't please the Queen. Leafpool could draw each scar that marred her back, feel the permanent bruising on her wrists and ankles and trace each bony, malnourished inch of her body. It had been torture to be beaten for something she hadn't done. It had been hell to be whipped for entertainment. It hurt to be regarded as less than human.

She choked back a sob and pressed her face into his chest. It had been a luck of the draw when she met Crowfeather. She could've been killed for being outside when the Queen had visitors. After all, it was forbidden for slaves to associate with anyone beside their peers. Yet the brief glimpse he caught of her had led him to seek her out in the dead of night, dragging both of them into a scandalous and once-in-a-lifetime affair. When he had left with the others, she thought that his promises of removing her chains had been nothing but empty promises and white lies. Yet here he was, fulfilling a vow she thought he would never keep to.

"Take down the Queen," she sobbed. "Take her down." How many had died from the wrath of their petty Queen? Mothingwing had been killed for stumbling into the Queen's bedroom when she was delivering Her Majesty's daily breakfast. Most of the slaves, including Leafpool's mother Sandstorm, would've died of starvation if Firestar hadn't decided to steal food from the kitchens or stock their stores incorrectly so there would be no suspicion at the sight of missing food. Their Queen had starved, beaten, and tortured them until everyone had lost hope.

Leafpool pressed a kiss to Crowfeather's jaw in gratitude. He was being foolish for apologizing for the lateness of her rescue. He would have been no more than two years old when Leafpool was born. The thought of a two-year-old breaking into the castle and taking down the Queen made her smile and Crowfeather gently brushed his lips against her cheek before heading for the front of the fortress. As they left, Leafpool felt a wave of hope pulse from her heart with each step that separated her from the place she once knew as home.

* * *

Equilibrium – Jackie Boys

Crowfeather gathered Leafpool in his arms, feeling his heart slow to match the steady pace of hers. He nuzzled her temple, resting his head blissfully against hers as he reveled in the softness of their bed. She smelled of sunshine, lavender and vanilla, yet she held a significance that Crowfeather had never associated with anything in his life prior to their meeting.  _Home._

He had always been a roamer of the streets, a lost orphan who sold himself to wealthy women to stay out of the gutters. He was described frequently as being attractive in an angular way, with high cheekbones and taut, pale skin. His contrasting blue eyes and dark gray hair proved to be an attraction for many women and the sinewy muscle that rested under his skin was always a pleasure to explore. He was frequently complimented for the softness of his straight hair, the broad expanse of his back and the sturdiness of his shoulders. He provided entertainment and pleasure for women who lost their way or had planned to lose it all along.

It had been a stroke of luck when he stumbled across a young woman who believed he had been abused as opposed to abusing himself. He had taken advantage of her kindness at first—he had even informed her of such—but she had ignored him and fussed over him until the thought of letting himself be at the mercy of wealthy cougars created a wave of nausea.

She was the water that quenched the bitter fire in his heart. She opened doors when he closed his windows, told him to eat when he wanted to starve, and found him when he had lost himself in the process of finding love. She was the most frustrating person he had ever met in his life yet at the same time, she became his sun. He couldn't hide the warmth that spread through his chest at the sight of her tending to her gardens. He couldn't ignore the chills that raced up his spine at her proximity. He couldn't look away anymore. She had become a part of him, in spite of all he did to keep himself from getting attached.

She was everything he ever needed. She was everything his starved, withered soul needed to become reborn. She became everything to him, and he was perfectly fine with that.

* * *

Damaged – Danity Kane

Her hands carried a softness that overpowered silk, a tenderness that rivaled those of a mother's and a firmness that had yet to waver. She was an angel on Earth, Crowfeather had decided. She chose to stay when he forced everyone around him to go. It was astonishing how dependent he had grown of her.

He thought he would never be able to love again after he lost his fiancée in a car accident two years ago. After lashing out at his friends for months, he was eventually forced into therapeutic care by the family of his deceased lover. He managed to convince most of his psychologists that he was a lost cause and he was determined to show everyone that was fine with being broken.

Dr. Leafpool was the sixth doctor the clinic decided to assign to him despite the number of humiliated psychologists that left his case in a flurry. He was perturbed by how insistent Feathertail's family was on his psychological recovery and was convinced that this doctor would be the last one the clinic would provide him with. And in some ways, he was right.

He treated her the same way he treated the first five psychologists. He acted moody, snapped at her, did everything she asked him not to do and even went as far as skipping appointments. At one point, she had set down her notebook and gave him a stern look. "Life is hard, Mr. Ebenwing," she told him coldly. "You claim to be haunted by the memory of your fiancée, but you are merely haunted by the ghost of yourself. After all, there is no reason why you have yet to accept my help or the help of any others." Her amber eyes softened as she gazed at him, a soft blanket of empathy settling over her. "It's time to let her go, Mr. Ebenwing. You're hurting both of you if you keep holding on."

He had broken down in front of her the second she finished talking, sobbing wholeheartedly that the pain he had inflicted on both himself and his fiancée's ghost. His tears had startled him and only made him cry harder at the memory of himself standing by Feathertail's casket with a dry face and a set jaw. He had expected Leafpool to leave the room to give him some privacy, but she had settled down beside him the entire time, rubbing his back and cooing until he had settled down. When their session had finished that day, she had given him a smile and told him there was no need for him to return for another. Her words startled him at first, but then he realized the implications behind her decision. He was as good as fixed.

His life from that day on had been similar to how it had been before the car accident with the exception of the absence of his fiancée. It wasn't until three months later that he began dreaming of the warm hands that rested on his shoulders and the calming voice in his ear. Before long, he found himself longing to request another session at the clinic, take his sudden infatuation under therapy and rid himself of it forever. Yet at the same time, he wanted nothing more than to fulfill that stupid fantasy and ride off into the sunset like a love-struck knight.

He eventually bundled up all these feelings into a simple gift and tied it to a note, all of which he left with the receptionist so his former psychologist could choose to break the boundary between patient and doctor to open his heart to love again.


	12. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Feathertail's death, a series of tragedies occur and everyone is left shaken and confused. Amid the mourning, chaos, and confusion, lies are easily swapped for the truth, and another disappearance marks the beginning of a new conflict.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who kudoed/left a comment!
> 
> Twilight and Dusk is really picking up and this chapter is chock-full of different events. The amount of information/plot coming at you guys is overwhelming, and it might take some rereading to track down every tidbit. Please enjoy this week's chapter!

Third Person – Crowfeather

The world turned ashen and muted, strangely warm instead of cold, and silently deafening as his fingers numbed over from shock. The redheaded messenger before him bowed low, training his eyes to the ground to respect the Ebenwing aristocrats before him. Ashfoot stared at the messenger while Deadfoot looked off to the side, emotions wrestling in his eyes. Tallstar's eyelids slid shut and he shook his head, a slow heaviness to each turn. Crowfeather felt the news settle in the pit of his stomach before turning molten, setting each nerve aflame until the next reaction struck.

When reality had finally settled in the corners of Crowfeather's mind, it was as if a lit match had been dropped in a room full of gunpowder. A wave of disbelief, horror, and guilt slammed into him like a charging bull and he felt as if he were a Ragdoll hanging from the jaws of a bloodhound, being shaken in eager playfulness. There was nothing there to stop the shaking.

A warm drop of anguish leapt over the edge of the chasm with a suicidal cry, landing hard on the surfaces below and rolling down the steep side with a trail of wetness following after it. Suddenly, it was dropped into the abyss, falling as a dead weight until the almost inaudible  _splash_  marked the end of its life. The splattered remains painted the wooden floor, making it even more obvious that whatever had fallen was broken beyond repair.

Crowfeather lifted a finger to his cheeks and recoiled at the moistness of his cheek. He was crying. He stared down at the floor, identifying the crushed body of the tear that had leapt from the pit of his heart, screaming and crying for a woman who was no longer there. He could feel the stares of the other aristocrats burning into his skin, each expression shocked as they studied the tears that quickly followed the first suicidal drop.

When was the last time he had ever cried?

He had never been raised to be an emotional child—his mother made quite sure of that. She put him through several stressing simulations, testing the strength and stability of his emotional mentality. From day one, she had expected him to become the heir of Ebenwing and she took great pains in ensuring that he would rise as one of the most successful political leaders in the house council. Weakness would be his destruction in the end. He learned to keep everyone out, away from his true thoughts and feelings. It was a defense mechanism that deterred many potential friends and made many of his peers view him distastefully. Everyone except Feathertail.

She was the first to pull him from his self-loathing and perfectionism. She encouraged creativity, smiling, and laughter as she worked to seek him out at aristocratic get-togethers. Her father's loyalties toward the houses of Herobexy and Zephyra and his unaccepted marriage with Feathertail, Feathertail became an outcast in the house of Riverside. While she was faced with criticism and venom among her relatives, Feathertail found friendship in the pariah of Ebenwing, the only heritage aristocrat left in his generation.

Perhaps that was what drove Crowfeather into a blinded desperation to marry her. She was the first person to show kindness to him, a kind of love that gave and never expected any in return.  _I loved her._ But now she was gone from his life, taken away by a group of barbarians who were seemed to be raised on the thought of killing. His first love was lost to him.

But what if he had met Leafpool first? What if Leafpool had taken Feathertail's place in his life? He could only imagine how difficult it would've been for them to befriend one another in the first place—after all, she had been more than an outcast and less than a pariah. She was everything—and had everything—in between.

He was going off on tangents. While his heart ached for what could've been, there was a bitter voice that spoke out against Feathertail.  _She got what she deserved_ , it grumbled angrily.  _She was_ using  _us. We were nothing more than a cover-up for the affair she was having. Don't try to hide it_ , the voice warned,  _you know what I'm talking about._  That reality had shattered him into a million pieces. She had never loved him the way he wanted her to and he had never loved her the way he wanted himself to. The love between them had been nothing more than platonic.

Two calloused hands took his cheeks, tilting his head down. He met the glazed robin-blue eyes of his mother, stained with anguish. "Go to Zephyra," she rasped. "You must tell Graystripe." Her gaze turned hard. "You  _must._ " Her hands left his face and reappeared at his back, pushing him insistently towards the stars. "Go!"

Before he knew it, Crowfeather was tossed into the back of a hastily prepared carriage, instinctively bracing himself for the bumps and sharp corners as his coachman hurried down the quickest route to Zephyra. The blue-eyed man shivered at the furious sound of snapping reigns and the demanding, " _Hiyah!_ " that was thrown in the wind. Somehow finding the wild rocking, the roar of hooves, and the sharp sounds of the horse crop soothing, Crowfeather closed his eyes and leaned back, losing himself in the memory of Feathertail and the glowing amber eyes that haunted him at night.

* * *

 

Third Person – Leafpool

She hopped off Varnish's back, taking great pains to avoid knocking Astertail off in the process. She landed on the ground lightly, brushing off the back of her dress as she looked up at the hesitating brunet. "Go ahead and go back to the picnic," she told him when he made a move to dismount. "I'll be fine by myself."

"A-are you sure?" He tugged on the reigns, making Varnish huff and toss his mane restlessly. Leafpool shot the horse a fond look, patting him firmly on the cheek to make him behave. Strangely enough, the stallion only seemed to be put at ease at her touch although Astertail was considered the horse-whisperer of their manor.

"I'm sure, Astertail," she reassured him. "Besides, I know that you and Cinderpelt were really looking forward to this afternoon." She smiled when a faint blush dusted his cheeks. "Have fun," she called after him when he tipped his hat to her in farewell. Varnish whinnied at her before allowing his rider to turn him around in the direction of the picnic. Leafpool watched the two of them disappear into the distance before heading for the manor.

It had been about three nights since Crowfeather informed Graystripe of his intentions of breaking off his engagement with Feathertail and two since Brambleclaw formally asked Firestar for permission to court Squirrelflight. In order to celebrate the relationship that everyone had been anticipating for several years, Firestar decided to host a picnic by a nearby lake. Located approximately three miles away from the manor house, it was a beautiful setting with sparkling water and plush grass. Leafpool would've stayed there for longer, but the atmosphere around her was what pushed her to return home.

She had nearly suffocated under the moony, lovey-dovey air that floated around Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw as they took long  _romantic_  walks along the lakebed. As if to make it worse, Cinderpelt and Astertail had curled up together underneath a nearby tree, absentmindedly intertwining their fingers as they gazed off into the lake. Sandstorm and Firestar acted like their usual, lovebird selves by feeding each other off of their forks and murmuring to each other with snippets of love poems.

It wasn't that Leafpool resented the love of people around her, but rather she felt like she was invading each couple's private time. In addition to that, it was ridiculously awkward to be one of the few third wheels who were hovering around. Graystripe, in his attempts to avoid the awkward situation, had rushed off to Herobexy, spouting off some nonsense about a tea party he promised to have with Dustpelt and Ferncloud. Leafpool and the manor staff weren't as lucky.

Hoping to give the couples some privacy, she decided to return to the manor house to work on a present that she was preparing for Squirrelflight. The redhead was the only one in their family that had yet to receive a carving from the brunette—and spent countless of hours reminding the amber-eyed twin of it. It was amusing how spoiled Squirrelflight acted around her sister and it entertained the various Zephyra aristocrats to see her moping around the manor with a fretful Leafpool following close behind.

Leafpool pushed aside a wooden plank by the bottom of the door in search of the spare key. When her hand failed to come in contact with anything smooth and metal, she slid the panel back in place with a frown. Testing the door handle, Leafpool felt a bubble of suspicion well up in her chest as it gave away easily under her probing hand. Opening the door as quietly as she could, she heard the faint sounds of movement coming from upstairs. She tensed when the shuffling stopped for a second and debated whether she should run into the forest or not. If she ran, she would be safe from the intruder in her house, but there was the risk that their house's valuables would be stolen.

She felt a stab of fear at the thought of confronting the intruder, but she quickly brushed it aside. After all this time of hiding, she almost felt convinced that she needed to make a stand somehow, to fight against the invisible evil of confrontations. She deflated slightly at the thought, an embarrassed flush decorating her cheeks when she replayed her thought process. It was a stupid excuse to try doing something dangerous, but Leafpool quickly shut down her over-rational side and quietly armed herself with an umbrella. It was a firm weight in her hand, but a bubble of uncertainty rose in her chest at the thought of actually having to use the makeshift weapon.

_Stop second guessing yourself!_  Leafpool growled inwardly as she crept up the staircase. She nearly leapt of her skin when she realized that the shuffling noise was coming from her bedroom and the thought of the necklace and bracelet that Featherpelt had painstakingly crafted made her blood run cold. Without thinking, she kicked open her door, brandishing her umbrella as if it were a double-edged sword. "Freeze!"

She wanted to slap herself for being so impulsive, but the intruder didn't seem to recoil at the shock of being caught. When the adrenaline in her veins faded a little, Leafpool stepped forward hesitantly, taking a closer look at the man in her room. " _Crowfeather?_ " He blinked blearily at her, unabashed at the mess he created. Her eyes widened with a mixture of horror and disbelief at the sight of her sketches scattered across the floor. "My sketchbooks!" Drawings of Feathertail were littered all over the floor, her carefully drawn faces crinkling left to right with laughter. "How did you even get in here?" Leafpool demanded, throwing aside her umbrella and falling to her knees beside him.

She gathered the drawings hastily in her arms, flustered and jealous at the thought of his feelings for Feathertail. When he had announced that his engagement would be canceled, a part of Leafpool thought he had fallen out of love with his fiancée, but the way he had described his decision had made her second guess herself.  _"I'm not breaking her heart. I'm fixing mine."_  Was he still in love with her?

"And why did you break into my room? I know you can be absolutely infuriating sometimes, but some places are definitely off limits!" She paused, jaw dropping in disbelief at the blank expression on his face. "Crowfeather, are you even listening—"

His breath tickled her face and a familiar, haunting scent filled her nostrils.  _Alcohol! He's been drinking?_  Glancing around her, she recognized the labels of a few wine bottles thrown hazardously on her floor. It was the alcohol that her father had used to drink his memories of Spottedleaf away.  _I thought the servants got rid of those_ , she thought wildly.  _But more importantly, how did he get to it? The wine cellar's usually locked! Unless…_ there was a large probability that one of the servants had accidentally left it unlocked when they rushed to prepare everything for the picnic. Her father's announcement of the party had been rather unexpected, so the butlers and other servants had worked double time in their haste to have everything ready.

While the wine cellar was home to various alcoholic beverages, it was also where meat was salted and dough was fermented. Leafpool faintly remembered seeing platters of salt-cured pork sandwiched between a few slices of bread and other condiments at the picnic. While she was furious at how careless the cooking staff had been with everything, she couldn't bring herself to report the news to her father. After all, they had done their best to accommodate with his wishes and she hadn't heard a single one of them complain as they hurried to have the meals prepared.

"Who…?" Leafpool snapped out of her reverie just in time to see Crowfeather pitch forward.

"Crowfeather!" She caught herself just as the two of them nearly toppled over. She brought her hands up and gently pushed him upright. "Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?" She began to maneuver him toward her bed, Cinderpelt's lessons on treating drunken patients blaring through her head as she settled him down on the side of her mattress. Alcohol was often used as a numbing agent for wounds and sometimes the doctors would be a little too generous with the amount of depressant they would provide their patient. Frowning at the dazed expression on his face, she rose to her feet. "I'll get you a glass of water."

A hand circled around her wrist and she was tugged so suddenly that she lost her balance. Leafpool squeaked as she fell back against him, stammering and spluttering as she tried to regain her composure. "Crowfeather?"

"So warm…" His breath tickled her ear and she shuddered, pulling away from his grasp. His hands tightened around her as he flipped them over, pinning Leafpool to her bed. "Feathertail?" Leafpool's blood ran cold as he pressed a kiss to her neck. A wave of fear crashed over her as she began to fight against him, begging him to release her as he hovered over her. A sob tore itself from her throat as he tied her wrists to the headrest; a pleased rumbling noise vibrating through is body as he nipped at an exposed collarbone.

Leafpool kicked upwards, hoping to catch him in the stomach as she opened her mouth to scream. He casually dodged her attack and draped himself heavily over her, silencing whatever pleas of help she had and threw her into the abyss.

* * *

 

Leafpool watched the fire as it swallowed the linen sheets she fed it, staring as the fabric disappeared into bursts of flame. When the blankets were gone, she slowly pushed the dress she had worn to the picnic into the burning pile of wood. Once every scrap was burned to ashes, she turned away and headed upstairs. With the evidence destroyed, nobody would ever have to know of the horrors that were committed just a few hours before.

A dry sob escaped her as she stepped into her room with a change of blankets cradled in her arms. She had stripped the sheets of her bed, tearing them in her haste to destroy whatever scent he had left on the fabric. She dragged Crowfeather's unconscious body to Graystripe's room after redressing him, hoping to make it seem as if he had been looking for the aristocrat's company. She buried the empty wine bottles in the forest and burned everything she had been wearing after changing into clean clothes.

Her heart, her soul, and her pride ached. Every fantasy she had of love was shattered in an instant and blown away with the wind. She had felt a flicker of satisfaction when she burned her memories away, but a feeling of emptiness quickly settled in the pit of her stomach, reminding her of the cruel reality that hovered over her like an ominous storm cloud. How could she ever tell anyone what had happened to her? How could she ever bring herself to stand next to her family anymore? She was soiled. A small half of her argued that Crowfeather was in the wrong, but the other side blamed herself. Guilt won over self-preservation and Leafpool found herself feeling hollow, broken, and disgusting.

"Leafpool?" The brunette jumped at the sound of her name and glanced down to see her sister waving at her. Her thoughts had distracted her from reaching her room before the others returned. "We're home! Did you use the spare key?" Leafpool's heart clenched painfully as her sister ascended the stairs. Why did she feel like Squirrelflight's smile could convince her that everything was going to be alright? She couldn't bring herself to burden her sister with the weight of her troubles. She loved her too much.

"Actually, we had a visitor who forgot to lock the door after he used the key," Leafpool sighed. She had gotten into a habit of hiding her emotions and playing the role she was expected of. "Crowfeather didn't bother to put the key back in its place. I thought he was a robber when I realized the door was unlocked," she admitted.

Squirrelflight's eyes grew dark and Leafpool stiffened, wondering if her choice of words had only driven the redhead into a spiral of suspicion. "And you didn't run back for help?" She demanded angrily.

"It was nothing. He was sitting in the living room when he saw me," Leafpool lied. "He went upstairs to wait in Graystripe's room. He said that he had something to Graystripe about, but he ended up falling asleep before you came home. He didn't give me the key, but I'm sure he'll give it back once he wakes up."

"Well, I don't think Graystripe's coming back until tomorrow night," Squirrelflight replied. She frowned and leaned in slightly, green eyes studying Leafpool's face worriedly. "Are you sure you're alright?" She asked softly. "You look a little pale."

Leafpool pulled back slowly to avoid arousing any more suspicion. "I'm just tired. You came back a lot later than I expected." As if to prove her point, she glanced at the clock. "Did Yellowpelt say anything about dinner?"

"She says that we've been out so long that the best we'll have for tonight is leftovers unless we want food being sent up in the dead of the night," Squirrelflight snorted. Leafpool relaxed slightly when the redhead didn't continue questioning her. "Thankfully, I managed to convince Brambleclaw  _not_  to eat everything, so there's actually some food that we can eat tonight. It's a shame you left so early; it would've been much nicer with you there."  _I wish I didn't leave earlier either,_  Leafpool agreed silently.  _But for completely different reasons._

* * *

 

Despite finding solace in the dark, sleep evaded her like a tickling shadow, hovering in close proximity but always dancing out of reach. The mattress underneath her felt alien; the heady smell of sweat smothering her like a blanket despite the changed sheets. She had lain on her bed, paced, and fidgeted for hours. But there was no comfort in the confines of her room and every time she closed her eyes, she could hear Crowfeather whispering in her ear.  _"Warm. So warm."_  Although his words confused her, she couldn't bring herself to analyze them. Not right now.

She couldn't stay in this room. She couldn't stay in this house. She couldn't face him the next morning. Tossing the covers aside, Leafpool rifled through her closet as quietly as she could, pulling out her two largest messenger bags. She stuffed her plainest undergarments, dresses, her bracelet and her topaz necklace into the larger pack before struggling out of her nightgown. She threw on a pair of her riding pants and stuffed her feet into riding boots as she poked her head through a billowed blouse. Leafpool tied her hair into a messy ponytail, hastily fitting a hat on her head and tucking whatever hair she could under the crown.

She pulled open one of the hidden drawers in her desk and retrieved the purse that held all the money she had saved from the appreciation gifts Littlecloud had given to her and the money her parents provided her with on her trips to Lilystone. Strapping that to the waist of her pants, she shouldered her bag and crept out of her room as quietly as she could. Pausing by her sister's room, she gazed longingly at the door before turning her head away. "I'm sorry, Squirrelflight," she whispered hoarsely under her breath. "I have to go."

Expertly sliding down the spiral staircase, she landed silently on the polished floor. Sneaking down into the cellar, she cut a generous slab of salt-cured pork and wrapped up a large slice of cheese before taking off with a loaf of bread and a tin of biscuits. She tossed apples and the rest of her food rations into her second bag before grabbing two knives for defense and a few eating utensils. She slipped into the linen closet, taking the heaviest blanket she could find and rearranged her belongings in order to fit it into one of her bags. Deciding that she had all that she could afford to take with her, Leafpool tiptoed out of the manor house before tearing over to the stables. After years of playing hide-and-go-seek with her sister, Leafpool had memorized the quickest and quietest way around the manor.

"Varnish," Leafpool whispered harshly as she stepped into the stables. A few horses stirred and she hesitated before a calm snort alerted her that her stallion was awake.  _Thank Starreign_ , she thought as she hurried over to his stall, hastily opening the door. He butted her chest affectionately, blinking curiously at her as she rushed into his stall and gathered his things. Throwing his saddle and blanket over his back, she pocketed his brush and quickly led him out of the stables. When a few horses nickered at him, she froze, imagining that there would be a stableman right around the corner, raising alarms at the sight of a missing horse.

It was not uncommon to have horse thieves around the Empire and it was even less common that those who were wealthy enough to breed purebred horses to have stablemen posted close by the stables in order to prevent such thievery. It was one of the main reasons most of Zephyra's groomsmen lived in the complexes that were a minutes' walk from the stable. And as if to make the stealing even more difficult, the horses were specially trained to kick up a fuss and create as much noise as possible whenever a stranger approached the stables. The hardest years as a groomsman in the service of a nobleman were the first, as very few of the horses agreed to cooperate with the newcomers. Regardless, it made the act of stealing a thorough bred steed nearly impossible. That was, if you were a stranger.

Leafpool saddled Varnish and slung his horse blanket over her shoulder. She was lucky that nobody had caught her yet; some of the more loyal and determined stablemen slept in the stalls of particularly important or beloved horses in order to guarantee their safety. It seemed everyone was too exhausted by the picnic to care. She led him out of the side of the manor, carefully mounting him after pushing the gate closed.

Squeezing his sides gently, she took one last glance at the manor as he fell into a fast trot. She couldn't help but wonder if everything that she was leaving behind would come back to haunt her one day. But there was no turning back now. Her life was out of her hands and the events to follow her disappearance were out of her control.

* * *

 

Third Person – Crowfeather

He awoke to shouting and the deafening sound of footsteps as he lifted his head blearily from the sheets. He frowned at the unfamiliarity of his surroundings before his hazed, drugged mind identified the room as Graystripe's. Crowfeather dropped his head back onto the pillow beneath him and drifted into a state of semi-consciousness.

Faint scraps of last night's dream lingered in his mind. He remembered the warmth that surrounded him, the soft silky material he had fisted in his hand and the spine-tingling sensation of a breath fanning softly over his cheek. His head throbbed painfully and he bit back a curse, rubbing at his temple absentmindedly. He faintly remembered drinking away his misery after finding that the Zephyra manor house was abandoned. It was only until he reached the second floor that his walls crumbled down around him and he allowed himself to mourn.

"Crowfeather!" The door slammed against the wall, earning a jump and a wince from the dark-haired man. He scowled at the woman who stood in the doorway, a fearful flush staining her unusually pale cheeks. "Have you seen Leafpool?" She demanded, stalking into the room. His head pounded and he swallowed a low groan of pain as he focused on his childhood friend.

"How could I?" He snapped back at her. "I was asleep until now. And besides, I hadn't seen her yesterday either. Where were all of you? Your manor house was empty when I came over!" He was about to toss the covers over his head before a curious thought entered his mind. What exactly  _was_  he doing in Graystripe's room? He fitted his forehead into his hand, trying hard to remember what exactly had happened last night. Everything after he reached the second floor was a haze. Had he fallen asleep in the middle of the hall?

" _You didn't see her at all yesterday?_ " His head nearly split open at the shrillness of Squirrelflight's voice. He had half the mind to throw her out of the room before he caught the horrified look on her face.

"Damn—what is your  _problem_?" Crowfeather snarled, clutching his throbbing head has he flipped onto his back.

"She lied," the redhead whispered. "Dear Starreign, Leafpool  _lied_  to me." She sank to her knees, staring blankly at her hands.

"Excuse me?" Ignoring the stabbing pain in his head, Crowfeather shifted into a seated position.  _What's going on here?_

"I should've known something was wrong," Squirrelflight choked out, tears filling her emerald eyes. "She was so pale…I should've known!"

"Squirrelflight?" Crowfeather looked up just in time to see Brambleclaw step uncertainly into the room. "Crowfeather, what happened?"

"I don't know." There was a flash of red as Squirrelflight leapt to her feet, barreling past her fiancé as she tore down the hallway. Brambleclaw and Crowfeather shared a look before the two of them rushed after her, the older of the two nursing a bruised shoulder while the other cared for his throbbing temples.

"Papa!" Crowfeather nearly felt his jaw drop at the sight of a startled and frenzied Firestar. The redheaded aristocrat had been pacing the main hallway restlessly, a haunted expression in his green eyes. His green eyes had brightened at the sight of his daughter, but it quickly faded away at the distressed expression on Squirrelflight's face. "She lied!"

"Lie? What do you mean 'she lied'?" He demanded as she rushed down the staircase.

"She was really pale when we came home last night." Squirrelflight's words tumbled over each other in her haste to explain. "I asked her if everything was alright and she told me that she met Crowfeather downstairs and that he took the spare key because nobody was here when he arrived and he said that he wasn't feeling well so she told him to wait in Graystripe's room—" she drew in a sharp breath "—but I just spoke with Crowfeather and he said he didn't see her at all!"

"When I woke up, I was in Graystripe's room," Crowfeather pitched in. "I don't remember anything besides that."  _I also drank a lot of your alcohol_ , he added mentally,  _but I don't think you'd like to know that._

"Then what happened to Leafpool?" Firestar looked back and forth between the two teenagers. "What in the world happened to my daughter?"

"Master Firestar!" A brown-haired man burst into the room, nearly tripping over himself as he rushed into where the head of Zephyra was waiting. "Varnish the Second is gone!"

"Varnish the Second?" Crowfeather echoed.

"He's a chestnut stallion," Brambleclaw explained. "Leafpool's horse."

"How is that possible?" Firestar demanded. "Varnish is the last horse that would disappear from this manor. He'd kick and bite and wake the entire estate up if someone was trying to steal him!"

"I know that, sir," the brunet replied testily, a troubled expression in his brown eyes. "But he would've gone if Leafpool had taken him."

"Are you suggesting that my daughter ran off by herself?" Firestar's voice had turned icy, dropping the temperature of the manor by a few degrees. The man stiffened at his master's tone of voice but raised his chin fearlessly.

"Yes sir!" Crowfeather stared at the two men, too shocked by the brunet's outburst to let the disbelief of Leafpool's disappearance sink into his head. If any of the Ebenwing servants had spoken out against any of the aristocrats…that would've ended in either fifty lashings or the head butler going to town in search of a replacement. The relationship between the Zephyra aristocrats and their servants was amazing.

"That's more than possible." Sandstorm appeared at her husband's side, giving him a warning glare when he turned his smoldering eyes onto her. She nodded reassuringly at the brunet. "Leafpool knows this manor like the back of her hand. It would've been easy for her to sneak out unnoticed."

"Mom!" Squirrelflight protested. "Leafpool had no reason to run away!"

"I'm afraid that's not the truth," the brunet murmured. The redheaded teenager gave him an incredulous stared. "Leafpool has been on the edge for days."

"That's my sister you're talking about—" Squirrelflight took a threatening step towards the brown-haired man, but she was quickly cut off by another voice.

"Every word Astertail is saying is right, Squirrelflight." Crowfeather turned to see Cinderpelt brush past him as she hobbled down the stairs. She pinned the rambunctious redhead with her cool blue gaze. "Leafpool is a well-rehearsed liar. Unfortunately, most of that is due to her tendency to be an introvert." Her blue eyes grew cold and unsympathetic. "Did you really believe your sister was as happy as she seemed to be?"

"You—"

" _Enough!_ " Sandstorm's voice cut through the air, startling all agitated aristocrats into silence. "Nothing's going to be accomplished if all we do is bicker." She turned to the brunet. "Astertail, take three other stablemen with you to Lilystone. The first place Leafpool would visit if she was to disappear would be Featherpelt's home." She turned to her remaining daughter. "As for you, you ought to straighten yourself out. Your sister would've done everything in her power to find you if you had run away.  _Your_  first priority should be the same." She nodded to Cinderpelt and Firestar. "I'll be heading with Lilystone with Astertail. The rest of you," she gestured to Brambleclaw, Crowfeather and the other aristocrats, "think of other places where Leafpool would seek refuge. She's a smart girl and she knows that we'll be looking for her."

* * *

 

Third Person – Leafpool

" _Mon dieu_ , Leafpool, is all of this really necessary? Why must you leave? Is it not possible for you to stay within the Empire?" Featherpelt pressed his hand to his forehead agitatedly. She had arrived at his house an hour before midnight, flushed and frantic.

"Featherpelt, you don't understand," she grit out. "Mother and Cinderpelt know that the first place that I would go to is your home. I only came to say goodbye." She paused before grabbing a carefully wrapped package from the top of her bag. Thrusting it in his arms, she gazed at him pleadingly. "Please take care of these for me," she whispered. "I'd be devastated if anything were to happen to them." Featherpelt blinked disconcertedly at the package before revealing the jewelry that lay underneath.

"Leafpool these—"

"—will be in danger of being stolen if I take them with me." She let out a shaky breath. "I can't take them with me; they're too precious. All I can do is ask for you to hide them for me."

"Leafpool…"

"I'll write to you as soon as I can but I have to go. Whatever you do, delay my family for as long as you can." She pecked him on both cheeks and gave him a tight hug. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "This is never the way I wanted it to be."

"It's never the way we want it to be." He returned the embrace and she felt his warmth wash over him, reminding her of the friendship she was leaving behind. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest as she turned away from him, prepared to remount Varnish and set off for the capital. "Wait!" She heard the sound of metal and the weight at the back of her head suddenly felt lighter. "You'll need to disguise yourself." She glanced at the hair Featherpelt held in one hand and the knife he carried in the other. His blue eyes glowed with regret and understanding. "I'm sorry for cutting your hair, but you won't make it out of this town if everyone knows you're a woman. Bind your breasts tightly. Sell your gowns!"

"I will," she promised him, pressing one last kiss to his cheek. "Burn my hair. You'll hear from me soon." She leapt onto Varnish's back and squeezed his sides with her legs.

"Be careful!" He called after her. She gave him one lingering glance before Varnish fell into a gallop and the city around her faded into a dull brown blur.

 

* * *

There were many benefits for choosing Varnish as her steed. Blessed with the genes of Varnish the First's, the same racing blood rushed through the chestnut stallion's veins. His father, who had been the very horse that Firestar and Leafpool had ridden over to Herobexy manor all those years ago, had died months prior to his birth. After his birthing, it was decided that the colt would be named after his late father due to their similar bone structures and coloring. In a ways, it almost seemed as if Varnish the Second was a carbon-copy of his father. Despite being two hands shorter and fostering a more prominent arch to his neck, Varnish the Second's running style not only matched his father's, but surpassed it as well.

He was capable of running long distances at a pace that would leave many horses spluttering after an hour. It was a feat that made him very appealing to the eyes of the breeders, but Leafpool had managed to fend the most of them off by arguing that he was too young to breed. Having staved them off for the time being, Varnish was able to rise to the youthful age of five-years-old without being confined to the stables as a breeder.

Varnish, while being a proud and powerful horse, was deathly protective and possessive of Leafpool. He entered foul moods whenever she failed to visit him on a weekly basis and often snapped at other horses when they sought out her attention. While he was reluctant to let anyone besides Leafpool or Astertail ride him, he learned that lashing out at  _any_  of the stablemen or aristocrats would lead to a furious and dismissive Leafpool.

The two of them had been riding for hours, racing past a few towns as they drew closer to the capital. Deciding to take refuge in a small clearing in the forest, Leafpool quickly dismounted and began to rub Varnish down. He whinnied at her as she settled the two of them down, blowing at her hair as she draped his blanket over him. He curled into her after she settled down against him, resting against his shoulder as she pulled her own blanket around her and reached for her rations. Chewing thoughtfully on a few bites of cheese and bread, Leafpool wondered if anyone at the manor house had realized she had disappeared.

While breakfast was served at seven, no one would actually come looking for her until around eight. She had checked in at a shop for directions had taken note that it was about eight-thirty in the morning. Her family must've realized she had disappeared by now. Finishing off the few bites she had rationed for herself, she tucked her knees under her chin and leaned against Varnish's warm flank.

Spring nights were growing shorter as each day approached the summer solstice. With more daylight, Leafpool could travel for longer periods of time and ultimately increase the distance between her and her family. She planned to travel to the capital and restock in the markets that littered the Gaian king's domain and escape to the bordering country of Ancansura. It was a wealthy trading hub, a nation built on foreigners and new traditions. It would be easy for her to disappear amongst the ranks of the merchants and the unusual tongues of the foreigners. With Leafpool's knowledge of herbs and medicine, she could easily make a living for herself as a doctor. With so much interaction and trade between various cultures, there was bound to be disease, especially in the more crowded cities.

Another benefit to escaping into the border nation was that aristocratic families from the Empire rarely paid visits to Ancansura. Despite having one of the largest markets in Zendiria, many of the Emperian houses were displeased and disinterested in the chaos and excitability of the young country. Built on a mix of most conservative and slightly liberal ideals, the Empire was a trustworthy ally to Ancansura but stood as an example of many things the trading nation criticized. Regardless, Ancansura received many travelling Emperians as they left their country in search of jobs, new lives, and wealth. Leafpool wouldn't have to suffer too much of a culture clash if she lingered by the towns and villages by the Ancansuran-Emperian border.

Varnish nuzzled her, jolting her out of her thoughts. She patted his neck fondly before settling down beside him, hoping to re-energize herself for the next few hours of travel. With luck, neither of them would be disturbed for the next five hours or rest.

 

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

"What exactly is going on here?" Graystripe asked as he stepped into the manor house, puzzled at the unusual emptiness of its corridors. Crowfeather had stayed behind after being elected by the Zephyra aristocrats to wait for Graystripe and explain the situation at hand.

"Leafpool disappeared. Squirrelflight and Firestar took off for Herobexy manor while Sandstorm went looking for her in Lilystone."

"She's  _gone?_ " Crowfeather was startled at the depth of disbelief in Graystripe's voice. Quickly reminding himself that the gray-haired aristocrat had essentially adopted Firestar's daughters as his own, he pushed his initial surprise to the side.  _This is the second 'child' of his that's disappeared_ , the blue-eyed teenager thought warily;  _I'll have to be careful about telling him about Feathertail._  His heart twisted painfully in his chest at the thought of the silver-haired woman, her blue eyes sparkling at him as she smiled. He had meant to let her go, but he had never expected the manner in which he would do so. "I should go look too," Graystripe decided, hastily waving one of the stablemen over.

"Actually, I have something I need to talk to you about," Crowfeather blurted out.

"Can it wait? I need to find my daughter," the amber-eyed aristocrat replied exasperatedly, hardly sparing the Ebenwing aristocrat another glance. Crowfeather clenched his fists and looked the Herobexy man in the eye.

"It's about  _your_  daughter." Graystripe faltered for a second, his amber eyes clouding over in confusion as he gazed at Crowfeather. After studying the younger aristocrat's conflicted expression, a worried look crossed his face. " _Feathertail?_  Is it about the wedding?"

"No, it's…" Crowfeather's throat closed up unexpectedly and he broke off what he was about to say. Breaking the news to Graystripe seemed to be harder than he expected. He steeled himself, drawing in a deep breath before locking his eyes onto the older aristocrat's. "There was a raid in the town of Poltin. They—they found her body. Feathertail's…not with us anymore."

A mixture of disbelief, shock, and devastation clashed in Graystripe's amber eyes and suddenly the gray-haired man looked well beyond his years, withered and helpless and dazed by the monstrosity of life and the mercilessness of death. He gazed over Crowfeather's shoulder, taking deep, shuddering breaths as he tried to rein in his emotions. "She never should've left," he whispered after a few long moments of silence. "She should've waited for you." His words sent a jolt of electricity up Crowfeather's spine.

"You're not…angry at me?"

"I want to be," Graystripe admitted, "but I can't. It's not your fault she decided to go." He paused for a few more seconds before adding, "How did she…?"

"According to the man who delivered the news…she was crushed by a toppled support beam. There were three children who said that she saved them from being hit by the pillar."

"All three of them survived?"

"Yes." Graystripe squeezed his eyes shut and lifted his head to the sky, seemingly sending a message up to Starreign. After a few seconds, he dropped his head again, giving Crowfeather a broken smile.

"It seems that everything's going wrong at the same time. Leafpool runs off on her own, Stormfur's disappeared, and now Feathertail's in Starreign?" His amber eyes shone with a mixture of bitterness and acceptance. "I'm getting old," he murmured. "If this had happened to me just a few years ago…I don't know what I'd do." He paused before adding, "Firestar and I are going through the same hell right now. But at least I know that one of my daughters is safe with her mother."

Crowfeather reached out a hand to Graystripe, but before he could touch the older man's shoulder, a rattle shook the manor house. "Get down!" He tackled the Herobexy aristocrat, holding the two of them to the ground as the windows around them shook violently. He could hear the faint sound of shattering glass and a few terrified screams as the servants each threw themselves to the ground in fear. He and Graystripe huddled together for a few long moments, waiting out the shockwave and waiting for any secondary waves. Once the tremors died down and the probability of another aftershock was unlikely, the two aristocrats rose carefully to their feet.

"Earthquakes. We almost never have earthquakes. Unless…" The blood drained out of Graystripe's face. "Great Starreign," he croaked. "I've already lost so much. Please don't tell me that losing our Gaian leader too."

* * *

 

Third Person – Leafpool

A few hours had passed since she and Varnish made their way to the capital of the Empire. The twelve aristocratic houses were divided into three groups—international, domestic, and Gaian. Each group was tied to one of the three leaders and was expected to play their roles in that sphere of influence. The heads of each house would meet with their respective empire leader and act as a form of a council for the Empire as a whole. They debated things like taxes, trading, the flow of foreigners in and out of the nation, and overall welfare. Each aristocratic house was located in the sphere of influence belonging to their Emperian leader.

For instance, the house of Zephyra and the house of Herobexy were houses of international affairs due to their proximity in the large city that housed Larkwing the First. The houses of Necrasung and Riverside focused on domestic policies due to their relative closeness to the domain of Rushtail the Second. The capital, more formally known as the City of Evermore, was where the Willowpelt the Third made his home. He worked closely with the heads of Ebenwing, Larixmin, and two other houses. The City of Evermore was centered in the heart of the Empire's grounds, yet despite being far from any significant national borders, it was home to one of the largest markets in the country.

Despite the rising popularity of carriages and talk about new technological advances, horses were still common in this day and age. Thankfully, this meant Leafpool fit right in with the various travelers who entered the city in search of good to buy and sell. Although Varnish would attract some attention with his thoroughbred status and appearance, she could hide most of his features under his horse blanket.

She tightened her grip on his mane as they passed through the crowds. When she passed a mirror merchant's stall, she barely recognized herself under the layers of grime and dirt that had accumulated during the hours of riding and sleeping in the forest. Flushing, she lifted her hands to her ragged hair and boyish attire, silently mourning the silky brown locks she had left behind and the developing, feminine figure she bound away in bandages. Forcing down her pride, she turned away from the mirror stall, ignoring the voices that screamed at her to refresh her appearance.

She cleared her throat, once, twice, three times in order to ensure that she could hold an octave that was deep enough to pass for a teenage boy. She often had to disguise herself when she roamed the streets with Littlecloud, seeing as there were antagonistic figures who wouldn't mind taking advantage of a woman if she didn't take care of herself. It wouldn't be too difficult to keep her voice low enough, but she decided to take special care in avoiding confrontation. After all, it just wouldn't do if anyone were to suspect that she was a girl in the first place.

Pressing closely to Varnish, she scanned the crowd warily, mentally taking note of potential thieves as she continued walking through the market. Although pick-pocketing was extremely dangerous in a city frequently patrolled by guards and soldiers, she had heard rumors that it was frequent enough to put her on edge.

She had quickly found a clothing merchant and traded her dresses in for male clothing. Her plainest gowns were still made of rich material, so she only ended up selling three of them for three pairs of pants, five loose blouses, a vest, and a thick cloak. Although she was thankful the merchant hadn't batted an eyelash when she pulled gowns out of her pack to trade, she couldn't help but feel she was being cheated with the exchange. Her gowns were worth more than what he had offered her, but she was too paranoid about being discovered to argue with him.

Leafpool made a few visits to nearby food stalls, making careful pains to avoid stepping into a shop for bread or any other necessities. She didn't dare leave Varnish and the rest of her belongings in the reach of any thieves and she knew the chestnut stallion would cause an uproar if anyone tried to lead him away. Purchasing an overpriced bag of oats for Varnish and a few apples for the two of them, she hastily pocketed her dwindling pouch. She would have to be much more careful with rationing from here on out—after all, she would most likely need a large sum of money to bribe the soldiers stationed on the borders to keep quiet about her appearance. Varnish, being a rather handsome stallion, would be difficult to forget easily.

Her steed froze before herding her against his body, pressing against her urgently with his neck. She stumbled into him, mouth open in preparation to scold the stallion for his actions when the world around them began to shake violently. Screams filled the air as the ground shifted and split before her, knocking a few merchants' stalls to the side as different slabs of earth rose into the air. Clinging to Varnish, Leafpool could only brace herself against him as he snorted furiously and kept his hooves planted on the ground.  _Was that an earthquake?_  She thought wildly as the shaking died away, only to return a few seconds later.

She had heard of these things called "earthquakes" from Yellowfang, who frequently reminisced about how terrifying it was whenever a new Gaian king had to be elected. Although very small earthquakes were reported from time to time, they were extremely minor and almost unnoticeable, rarely making the news or catching the attention of the Emperians. Sandstorm and Cinderpelt had explained to her that these minor natural disasters occurred whenever the Gaian king contracted a severe cold or illness, but otherwise were infrequent. In fact, it was rare for the Gaian king to be sick at all, aside from self-infliction such as alcohol or drug abuse.

A wave of dread washed over her as Varnish began moving, snorting urgently as he pulled her towards the eastern side of the city. She had faintly remembered the chestnut stallion being particularly restless when they entered the capital, but she had brushed it off as being uncomfortable with such a crowded, busy city.  _"Natural disasters—especially devastating ones—are very uncommon. The only time those should ever occur is when the Gaian king is nearing his final moments. He may only have a month—or a few weeks at the most when the disasters first begin occurring."_  Yellowfang's words rang through Leafpool's head as she and Varnish rushed out of the city, hastily leaving the life they knew behind them.

"It can't be," Leafpool whispered to herself as she pushed through the chaotic crowds. She twisted around, throwing one last glance at the magnificent Gaian mansion. "How can we be losing our king in times like these?" Yet unknown to Leafpool, there were many more casualties that both preceded and succeeded the earthquake. In the Gaian sphere, the news of Feathertail's death had yet to reach Leafpool's knowing and somewhere in the rubble of what was left of the Ebenwing manor, Tallstar drew one last breath before joining his friends in the ranks of Starreign.

 


	13. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leafpool's disappearance leaves everyone in disarray, and to make things worse, one aristocratic house is left without a manor to stay in. With an international conflict looming above their heads, the Empire calls together its aristocratic council, but tensions rise as the new order fight against the old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who kudoed/commented on this story!

Third Person – Crowfeather

The expected, bitter weight of disappointment settled over Crowfeather's heart as Squirrelflight and her parents returned to the manor without any information on Leafpool's whereabouts. Their attempts at weaseling information out of a stricken Featherpelt had fallen short when the blonde man insisted that he hadn't seen Leafpool since his last visit to the Zephyra Manor. The very visit that Crowfeather had paid Graystripe to cancel his engagement.

Exhausted and disheartened, Squirrelflight allowed herself to be folded into the arms of her fiancé as the Zephyra aristocrats entered the den to join Graystripe and Crowfeather by the fire. "We should check the cities that are further out," Sandstorm murmured as she slid into the loveseat beside Firestar.

"But what if she's too far away from home? She has Varnish with her," Squirrelflight said. "Can't we call for a lockdown?"

"We can't post soldiers anywhere unless we have Rushtail's permission," Firestar sighed. "I sent an urgent message to him, but I heard that he's been overwhelmed with work for the past few weeks. Not to mention that, but he'll be more obligated to respond to the requests of the domestic house leaders as opposed to mine."

It was a major flaw in their government—the heads of each house were allowed to make requests to each of the three leaders, but each leader would prioritize the messages of those who worked for their station. Being member of the Council of International Affairs, Firestar's messages to either Rushtail or Willowpelt would be seen as being of lesser priority.

"We don't even know if Leafpool plans on leaving the Empire or not. She might have escaped to one of the bordering countries," Crowfeather argued. His words earned him a weary glance from both Squirrelflight and Firestar.

"Leafpool isn't stupid enough to leave her country," Squirrelflight growled.

"Leafpool is  _smart_  enough to leave the country because she knows that you'll be looking high and low for her," the blue-eyed aristocrat shot back. "She knows how you think, Squirrelflight. She knows how all of us think."  _Well, maybe with exception to me_ , Crowfeather thought, although he doubted it was true. He had shown a rather vulnerable side of himself to Leafpool when they were younger and he was sure that she had yet to forget the amount of trust he placed in her.

"Crossing the Empire would take at least three days," Firestar mused. "Varnish couldn't have gotten too far away if he took off for the eastern border. But knowing Leafpool, she most likely escaped through the western border. After all, our manor is the closest to that territory boundary. She would be caught too easily if she decided to cross the country."

There was something off about the redhead's reasoning as Crowfeather repeated the logic through his head. He almost felt as if Leafpool was trying to trick them into believing that she had escaped to the west, where crossing the border would take no more than half a day. His gut was screaming at him to convince the Zephyra aristocrats to search the eastern lands of the Empire, but his mind argued against. Why would Leafpool make it so much more difficult for herself to leave the country through the east as opposed to crossing over western borders?

"We can send out a search party tomorrow," Brambleclaw said, squeezing Squirrelflight's shoulder. "I'll send a messenger over to Herobexy to see if we can spare a few knights to patrol with you."

When Firestar glanced in Crowfeather's direction, the blue-eyed aristocrat shook his head in apology. Unlike Herobexy, most of the houses lacked an organized defense squadron because wars and borderline skirmishes were extremely uncommon. Since the Empire usually succeeded with evading international problems through its strong diplomatic relations with other countries, most of the houses were unwilling to spend their resources on training knights and other defenders. It was mainly the job of the domestic council to take care of training Emperian defenders, but only one house from each government sector actually assembled defense squadrons. Only three houses in the entire Empire funded a small group of high-class knights.

"Seeing that we've done as much as we can on Leafpool's case," Graystripe said, leaning forward slightly, "I think we should focus on the situation at hand. You all felt that earthquake earlier, right?"

"The situation at hand?" Firestar scowled at the gray-haired aristocrat. "My daughter has run away from home. I'd rather not divulge my attention to another matter especially as something as small as an  _earthquake_."

"That earthquake shattered a good number of your windows and tore up a few patches of your manor." Graystripe fixed the redhead with a hard stare. "I love your daughter as if she was my own," he reminded Firestar, "but that earthquake affects more people than Leafpool does right now. That earthquake means that Willowpelt the Third is either gravely ill or on the verge of death and if we don't react quickly enough to that, we'll find ourselves without a Gaian leader and a barrage of natural disasters until we get the next king on the throne."

Firestar took a deep breath and looked away, his jaw set and squared. Sandstorm glanced at him before turning to Graystripe with a thin frown. "I'm sure all the other houses are on their toes right now," she said. "Rushtail and Larkwing are likely to hold a joint council meeting in the next few days to discuss protocol and give instructions on how to organize the peasants. We can also count on the domestic council to be doing a nationwide blood-test to see if there are any more peasants have heritage blood."

"I'm not comfortable with the idea of a new Gaian leader," Cinderpelt said. "I know there's no other way around it, but there's no knowing who it'll be in the end. Willowpelt has been a blessing to us all and there's a good chance that his successor won't be able to follow in his footsteps."

Although Gaian kings lacked direct power in both the domestic and foreign aspects of the government, they were heavily influential over the choices made by the council members and the various social niches of the Empire. What made it worse was that any man, of any age, could become the Gaian king regardless of educational or social background and there was always the fear that a dictator would be taking the throne as soon as his predecessor fell.

The silence in the room was broken when a blonde maid stopped by the doorway. "Excuse me, Mistress Sandstorm, but Mistress Ashfoot and Master Deadfoot of Ebenwing have arrived." The green-eyed aristocrat shared a confused glance with Crowfeather before she motioned for the servant to bring the two visitors in. When the two Ebenwing aristocrats burst into the den, Crowfeather stood up to meet them.

"Mother? Father? What are you doing here?"

"Tallstar is dead." Everyone in the room bristled at Deadfoot's news. "Your mother and I left for Riverside to inform Crookedstar of Feathertail's passing—" from the corner of his eye, Crowfeather saw Squirrelflight share a horrified look with Brambleclaw "—while you came here to tell Graystripe. Half of the Ebenwing Manor was destroyed during the earthquake and Tallstar's body was found in his study."

Ashfoot stepped toward Crowfeather and looked him in the eye. "We need to go back to the manor," she said. "We have to rebuild our home."

"Excuse me, Mistress, but that will not be possible." A new voice cut through the air and everyone turned to see a messenger standing in the doorway. The scarlet and gold uniform on his shoulders identified him as the International Leader's attendant. "Rushtail the Second and his advisors request the presence of the heads of all houses at his palace within the next two days. There have been pillages and skirmishes along the western borders and he wishes to arrange a council to call the Empire to war."

"War?" Graystripe echoed, rising. "With whom?"

"The country of Mirviran. It seems that there had been a rebellion a few months ago and a military coup had been performed. Mirviran is now under a totalitarian state and their dictator has expressed economical and territorial interests in neighboring nations. Seeing as how we are being attacked by cavalry groups bearing the Mirviran flag, he has undoubtedly decided to target the Empire first." The messenger reached into his bag and pulled out several envelopes. "These are letters from Rushtail asking for your participation in the upcoming council. There are instructions enclosed and estimations on how long your stay at his palace will be." He bowed lowly. "We will be expecting you in the next two days."

* * *

Third Person - Firestar

The council room was tense and quiet as the heads of the various aristocratic houses took their seats with their various advisors and successors. Firestar watched as Deadfoot and Crowfeather seated themselves in the Gaian column with the other Gaian council members and gave Blackstar a firm nod when he settled down beside him. The redheaded aristocrat felt slightly unnerved by the fact that he was only accompanied by Graystripe and Cinderpelt, but there was little he could do to change that situation.

Women were mainly prohibited from joining the council unless they were extremely influential outside of the political sphere or were considered worthy of leading an aristocratic house despite not having heritage blood. Bluestar had been one of these influential women, but she had received a lot of criticism for her leadership position. Mistyfoot, Crookedstar's chosen successor, was facing the same negativity as her mother originally had, but thankfully Bluestar's superb leadership of Herobexy had made the concept of female leaders less daunting than it initially had been.

When the council room was filled with their respective members, the two attendants at the doorway stepped aside for Rushtail and Larkwing. The two leaders headed into the center of the room, stopping in the center of the amphitheater-like space. Turning to meet the room, Rushtail cleared his throat, his weary blue eyes trailing over his audience. Larkwing tucked a lock of blond hair behind his ear and settled on the far right corner of the curved table*. After a few moments of studying the crowd, Rushtail slipped into his seat on the far left and the center of the table was left empty.

The older politician leaned forward and laced his hands together when his younger associate glanced in his direction. "As you all know, our empire is currently under siege. I arranged this meeting to discuss the number of defensive forces each house can provide as well as approximations on how many soldiers should be necessary for this war."

"Is war our only option?" Across the room, Deadfoot stood. "It should not be our main priority if Willowpelt is unwell."

"Willowpelt is fighting through his illness," Rushtail replied coolly. "His doctors have deemed him fit for the next few months—if not one more year—before we will face the need to find another king. Although he will be a major concern to this country, he will not be our first." Deadfoot set his jaw and sat down without another word.

"Our armed forces should not consist of the guards who currently protect our cities," Crookedstar said, rising. "We cannot risk domestic instability for this war."

"That would dramatically decrease our fighting force." Blackstar stood, bristling.

"Crime will escalate in our country if we transfer our guards," the head of Riverside shot back. "Besides, they are not trained for combat—they only have experience in subduing their enemies."

"Then we'll have to look for another answer then," Rowanclaw said, rising from the Council of Gaian Affairs. He gave a hard look to the two standing aristocrats. "If we can't take from the current executive forces, then we'll have to train civilians."

"Training takes time and funding," Larkwing said, motioning for the different aristocrats to sit. "We can arm our civilians and create guerilla forces, but in the meantime, we'll need an army to hold the Mirvirans back."

"Currently, the aristocrats are the closest to an army that we have. Every noble has been trained from childhood to fight," Rushtail murmured.

"Our children are hardly ready to fight in this war," Mistyfoot growled, rising in her seat. The air in the council room grew icy as each aristocrat turned to stare at Crookedstar's successor. "Just because they have been trained in self-defense does not mean they are prepared for a  _war_."

"Following your reasoning, no aristocrat would be ready for war." The Riverside aristocrat's eyes burned into Firestar's as he stood. "The Empire has not participated in a war for over a hundred years," he said. "There is no aristocrat among us that has experience in combat. The most we know—even being the most talented archers, swordsmen, or fighters in our country—are training sessions and mock battles."

"My children are only twelve," Mistyfoot growled.

"And I understand that. My daughters are just barely seventeen." Firestar turned to address Larkwing and Rushtail. "I feel it's fair to decide that our current guards and national defender should not partake in this war," he said, ignoring Blackstar's glare. "We need to minimalize domestic complications if we are to ever expect victory at war. However, that leaves us with no army." He raised his head. "As the aristocrats who are expected to protect and assist in the lives of the Empire's civilians, I think it's only reasonable for aristocrats to participate in this war."

"If all the aristocrats participate, there will be no one left to run the government," Leafstar pointed out.

"I'm not proposing that all aristocrats abandon their political positions," Firestar replied. "What I'm arguing is that a proportion of aristocrats—heritage or inherited—should take army positions. It is our moral duty as aristocrats to protect our nation and provide protection for those unable to do so for themselves."

"How many aristocrats do you expect to enlist for this war, Firestar?" Blackstar asked.

"At least a quarter." He ignored the unsettling murmurs that stirred among the council members. "That should be enough to hold the Mirviran armies back for a few months, at the very least. In the meantime, we can train civilians to fight and take part of the war."

"The civilians won't have incentive to do this," Crookedstar argued.

"They will if their lives are at risk," Rowanclaw hissed.

"Enough!" Larkwing stood and glared down the quarreling aristocrats. "All in favor of Firestar's quarter-participation proposal—stand."

About a third of the council room stood, the remaining aristocrats whispering uneasily. After a few seconds of uncertainty, a fourth of the sitting council members stood and Larkwing waved for everyone to return to their seats.

Dustpelt stood and addressed the crowd. "I propose that the houses who currently are training knights be excused from participating in this war if they offer their knights' services in their stead."

"That's hardly fair," Deadfoot argued, rising to his feet. "Those houses could offer five knights for the twenty aristocrats that they foster!" He turned to Rushtail and Larkwing. "I suggest a compromise—houses with knights must provide all of their defenders for positions in the army, but aristocrats will be required to participate if their knight force is less than one-fourth of their aristocratic population."

"My house will not lose all its knights to this war," Dustpelt growled.

"It is either your knights or this nation," Crookedstar shot back, bristling.

"There is logic to Deadfoot's proposal," Larkwing said, cutting through the tense council room. "Please reconsider your opinion, Dustpelt. Your knights could be best utilized in the army to defend our country."

"We need trainers for the civilians," the brunet aristocrat argued. "If all our knights leave for war, who will be left to prepare the civilian army?"

"How many knights do you have in your service, Dustpelt?" Larkwing asked.

"About a hundred, sir."

"Leave one tenth of them behind to train our civilians." The young politician addressed the council members. "All houses with knights in their service—please leave one tenth of your defenders behind for training. All remaining knights must be fully trained and capable of passing their knowledge onto others."

"All in favor of Larkwing's proposition and Deadfoot's proposal, stand." Two-thirds of the room stood at Rushtail's words. "Passed. All houses will be required to provide one-fourth of their aristocratic population for battle—heritage or inherited—and houses with knights can substitute their required number of participants for nine-tenths of their knight force. All remaining knights and trainers will be required to prepare our civilian armies."

"How will we gain civilian support for this war? The best armies are made of willing volunteers," Firestar asked.

"Participants will be given minor positions in the government and receive a sum of money for their services. Do we have an amount in mind?" Rushtail glanced at Larkwing.

"Our economy is currently prospering, so our treasury is capable of providing at least five terras a year to each civilian if we have a maximum army of fifteen thousand soldiers. If we were to offer economic rewards to our participating aristocrats as well, that number would drop to three terras a year," Larkwing replied, studying his statistics.

"Three terras are hardly worth risking your life for," Blackstar scoffed.

"It would be preferable for the participating aristocrats  _not_  to request sums of money as their repayment method," the domestic leader agreed. "But there will be little incentive for them to fight this war."

"As heads of the houses, I'm sure we will determine our method of persuasion on our own time," Leafstar said. "This war will be fought."

"Five terras a year to all participating civilians—all for the proposal, stand." Three-fifths of the room rose immediately while another fifth followed uncertainly. "Passed. All other proposals must be made before this day is passed. Larkwing, will you read the war decree?"

The younger politician nodded to the head scribe, who handed him the written document. Firestar watched the scribe settle back in his seat, marveling at how quickly the man could write. It was traditional for scribes to be present in any council meeting—regardless of how small the matter was. They were the most forgotten, but by far the most important government assistants to the three leaders.

"Our army will first be made of one-fourth of each population of the aristocratic houses. Houses who foster knights will be allowed to substitute their knight force for aristocrats, but nine-tenth of those knights must fight in the army while the remaining tenth will be required to train upcoming civilians." Larkwing paused in his reading and studied the crowd. "Are there any objections or new proposals?"

"The aristocrats who will be gathered for war must have an age limit," Mistyfoot said. "My children are too young and there are elders in our houses who do not deserve death in battle."

"I'm sure no house would be heartless enough to send elders and children to fight their war," Leafstar said.

"Scripted documentation makes loopholes less likely to occur," Mistyfoot replied coolly. "I'm sure there are younger aristocrats who have misconceptions of war."

"Fair enough. Do you have a proposed age range?" The Riverside aristocrat faltered at Larkwing's question and shook her head. The domestic leader turned to the council members. "Do any of you have a proposed age range?"

"Twenty to forty," Rowanclaw offered.

"Fifteen to fifty," Blackstar said. Collective murmurs rose at his suggestion, but they quickly died down when he turned his golden eyes over the crowd.

"Eighteen to fifty." Firestar stood to defend his point. "Eighteen is the age when we acknowledge an aristocrat to be an adult. This war should be fought with adults, not children."

"Make the age limit forty-five," Dustpelt said.

"There are plenty of aristocrats in their late forties who are willing to fight," Crookedstar hissed.

"Well, they don't seem to concern you since you currently exceed all the suggested age limits," the brunet shot back, earning a cold glare from the head of Riverside.

"Sit down, Herobexy," Rushtail growled. "We cannot be at war amongst ourselves if we are to be at war with others." Dustpelt gave Crookedstar a venomous look before settling in his seat. "Stand for the age range you support. Scribes and witnesses, please keep count. Twenty to forty." Two houses stood alone. "Fifteen to fifty." Four houses stood. "Eighteen to fifty." Five houses stood. "Eighteen to forty-five." Three houses stood. Rushtail narrowed his eyes at the council members. "One house has yet to vote."

"We abstain, sir," a blue-eyed aristocrat answered from the Gaian column.

"Very well. The age limit will be from eighteen to fifty." Rushtail nodded at Larkwing, who was quickly handed a revision by a scribe.

"All participating aristocrats must be between the ages of eighteen to fifty and must be deemed physically fit by royal practitioners and guards. Five terras will be given to the participating civilian families for—how many years?"

"Five," Leafstar said.

"Eight," Firestar murmured. "There will be lives lost in this war and twenty-five terras will not be enough to replace the money the dead would have provided otherwise."

"Ten," Crookedstar proposed. "We cannot provide them with five terras for the remainder of their lives, but we can support them for at least a decade."

"Given that our economy doesn't cave underneath us," Deadfoot said. "I propose seven years."

"Is that all?" Rushtail glanced around the council room. "Stand for five?" Leafstar's house stood alone. "Seven?" Five houses stood. "Eight?" About a third of the houses stood. "Ten?" The remaining two houses rose. "Passed. Five terras will be given to participating civilians for seven years."

"Seven  _continuous_  years," Larkwing murmured. There was no opposition to his addition, so it was quickly added into the proposal.

"Should the age limit be the same for peasants?" Dustpelt asked.

"I'm sure they could afford to have younger participants," Crookedstar murmured.

"It'd hardly be fair—" Firestar objected.

"But most peasants are working by the time they are fourteen. In many ways, they are already adults." Deadfoot pursed his lips. "I propose that we go with Blackstar's initial age limit—fifteen to fifty."

"All in favor, please stand." The majority of the room stood and Firestar slumped slightly in his chair, stirring slightly when Cinderpelt gave him a sympathetic glance.

"Participating civilians will be given five terras for seven consecutive years and their age limit for registration is between fifteen and fifty." Larkwing raised his eyes to meet the council members'. "The Domestic-Executive will be in charge of training civilians. Please send your remaining knights and any voluntary aristocrats to my training grounds to prepare them for war. Are there any more proposals regarding the war?"

After a few moments of silence, a scribe rushed up to the table and handed Larkwing another draft of the war decree. "Any additional proposals must be made now or they will not be considered. The Emperian army will be made of one-fourth of the aristocrats in each house and all participants—both heritage and inherited—must be between the ages of eighteen and fifty. Houses that foster knights will be allowed to substitute their knight force for aristocrats, but nine-tenth of those knights must fight in the army while the remaining tenth will be required to train upcoming civilians.

He switched documents. "The peasants will receive this announcement: participating civilians will be given five terras for seven consecutive years and they must be between the ages of fifteen and fifty in order to fight in this war." He lowered the documents. "Registration details will be handled by the Domestic-Executive branch, so there is no need for any further discussions on the regulation of war preparation. Council members, please return to your houses and discuss this news with your family and peers. Tomorrow, letters will be delivered with official instructions and the finalized proposals that were made in today's session. You will have three days to gather all of your participating aristocrats and they will be expected to arrive in my city by the end of these three days."

He nodded to Rushtail, who turned to the crowd. "You are dismissed!"

"Stand," an attendant called, stepping into the center of the room. "Bow." Firestar dipped forward, holding his position for a few seconds before returning to an upright position. The aristocrats began to shuffle out of the room, a quiet round of "excuse-me" and "pardon" going around.

"The medicinal community is meeting right now to discuss volunteers and war regulations," Cinderpelt murmured. "Depending on how the discussion will go, I may be away from home for a day or two."

"Take care, Cinderpelt." Firestar squeezed her shoulder. Two bemused eyes glittered at him.

"I'm disabled, Firestar," she rasped fondly. "They would think twice about sending me off to the battlefield."

"They need every medic they can get," Graystripe murmured. "And why not the best?" Her eyes darkened slightly and she nodded.

"I suppose that's so." She glanced at the clock. "I should be going. I'll tell you their decisions as soon as they're made."

* * *

Third Person - Cinderpelt

"Cinderpelt?" Littlecloud stopped in his tracks, looking behind the gray-haired aristocrat worriedly. "Where's Leafpool? Is she sick?"

Cinderpelt's throat tightened and she gave him a brief smile. "I'll address when the meeting begins," she murmured. "For now, I think we should seat ourselves."

The medicinal community was much larger than the council meeting she had just attended. They required one of Rushtail's larger halls, where the majority of doctors and nurses could sit on benches as opposed to stand. Barkface waved at them a few benches from the front and beckoned them over. Cinderpelt maneuvered through the crowds, thankful that she was well-known enough that other members would shift to help her along.

"Those council meetings get fiery, don't they?" The brunet joked as the two doctors settled down beside him.

"Blackstar was digging his nails into the palms of his hands." Littlecloud shuddered. "I was nearly convinced that he'd need stitches at the end of it!"

"Dustpelt was being a little more snippy than usual," Barkface mused.

"He's had a few rough days," Cinderpelt replied smoothly. It wasn't surprising how reluctant he had been at the idea that all his knights would be required to participate in some form during the war. After all, he had sent every Herobexy knight out on patrol when Brambleclaw informed him of Leafpool's disappearance. If his knights were busy fighting in the war against Mirviran, they wouldn't be able to find Leafpool and bring her home. "Not to mention that, but he's only been head of Herobexy for a few years and Bluestar created a legacy that's almost impossible to surpass."

"Whatever. I just think he needs to relax a bit more." Littlecloud wrinkled his nose and turned his attention to the front of the hall, where the recognized "head" of the medicinal community was calling for attention. Cinderpelt felt a bitter smile tug at her lips at the irony of the blue-eyed doctor's words. It wouldn't be long before he was in the same frenzied panic as he aristocrat he had just criticized.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I'm sure a few of us were in the council meeting just earlier," Nettletail murmured, earning a few laughs from the crowd. "But please be aware that we'll be required to participate in this war as well. After all, what use is an army if it doesn't have a talented group of medics close behind?" His expression grew somber. "We need field medics and doctors to travel alongside our soldiers and our armies as they fight to defend this nation. We need talented nurses to train civilians in simple medical aid and the more talented in surgery and amputations.

"Be aware that these are our people who are fighting this war. If no doctor goes to the battlefield, be prepared to accept the guilt that you could've been there to save those soldiers' lives had you volunteered to go with them." He paused, gazing at the crowd of doctors before him. "Every hand will be appreciated. Please participate in the war effort and register for positions. Sign-ups will be at the front of this hall at the end of this discussion."

"Alright, now that that's over and done with, are there any other announcements to be made?" Cinderpelt started to stand, but fell back into her seat with a defeated sigh when twenty different hands rose to share news. Barkface squeezed her shoulder sympathetically as they listened to the things other medics had to say. There were about five new doctors who were interested in becoming house doctors and all twelve of the current house doctors were unwilling to give up their positions. A few concerned voices discussed the effects of Red Lung and possible cures, but that quickly died down when no new voices joined in.

Red Lung was a deadly disease that was far more severe than it was infectious. Regardless, it was rare in the Empire due to its distinct preference of chilly, mountainous regions. A few other discussions regarding insights on treating small illnesses began and concluded quickly as the community of doctors either affirmed or negated the proposed treatments. After a few more moments of virus-chatter, Cinderpelt stood from her seat. Immediately, the room fell silent as all eyes turned to her.

It was customary for doctors to raise their hands to be heard, but those who stood were easily subject to criticism and negativity. Only the most recognized and admired group of doctors, also known as the mediators, were able to stand without being ridiculed for doing so. Either way, this ability was not to be abused in any way—only the most important and urgent news could be delivered through standing.

"As some of you have seen, my apprentice Leafpool is not with me at today's meeting. In fact, she was also absent during the council meeting with the various heads of the aristocratic houses." Cinderpelt lifted her chin slightly. "I am afraid to say that my apprentice has disappeared. While we are investigating on our own and trying to discover her whereabouts, I ask the medical community to assist me in my search. Please be on the lookout for her and please contact the house of Zephyra immediately if you are to see her. Thank you." Cinderpelt bowed the crowd and returned to her seat.

Although there was a fear that community members didn't know what Leafpool looked like, Cinderpelt knew that her apprentice was already famous amongst her peers. Her voluntary travels and work with Littlecloud had gained her a lot of recognition in the medical community, and her status as the "Legendary Cinderpelt's" apprentice had made her a well-talked about medical student early on.

"Leafpool's disappeared? Is it the same thing that happened to Stormfur?" Littlecloud whispered worriedly.

"Something of the sort," Cinderpelt replied. She wouldn't allow Leafpool to lose face in the medicinal community, so she twisted the truth around the brunette's disappearance. "We're not exactly sure what happened, though."

"Similarly to Cinderpelt, I have some disheartening news." Mudfur stood, locking eyes with Barkface. "It has come to our awareness that Crookedstar's granddaughter, Feathertail, has been killed in the Mirviran's border-town raids."

"This war is targeting everyone we hold dear," Barkface muttered darkly. "And at the worst time too!" He rose to address the crowd. "Yesterday's earthquake took away a dear friend of mine—Tallstar, the former head of Ebenwing, has passed into Starreign as well."

Shocked murmurs gathered and festered amongst the doctors, growing in urgency and volume. It took a sharp word from Nettletail to silence the chaos and Cinderpelt shifted in her seat, praying fervently to Starreign that everything would be settled soon enough. The Empire was in chaos—there was war raging on the Western border, a king on the verge of collapse, and the deaths and disappearances of multiple aristocrats. It would take a miracle from Starreign to save them now.

* * *

Third Person – Squirrelflight

It was decided after a few days that the remaining heritage aristocrats of Ebenwing would stay in the Zephyra Manor. The mansion that housed the inherited Ebenwing nobles had magically withstood the earthquake and remained mostly intact, so there was no need to move those aristocrats from their home. The main house, however, was in desperate need of repair.

"Your mansion is much smaller than ours," Deadfoot murmured as Firestar escorted him to his room. Squirrelflight followed close behind with Ashfoot and Crowfeather. "Cozier. Calmer." A faint smile dusted his lips. "It feels much more like home than ours ever did."

"We only have four aristocrats to look over," Firestar joked, "and only one of them is a heritage aristocrat." It was not uncommon for the main houses of an estate to be exclusive to the heritage aristocrats in the family. Most inherited aristocrats were required to move to a new mansion if there was insufficient space in the main house. The house of Ebenwing was a dying flame—Deadfoot and Crowfeather were the only heritage aristocrats left. Everyone else had inherited their nobility.

"Thank you again, Firestar," Ashfoot said as she stepped into the room after her husband.

"I apologize for the lack of space," the head of Zephyra chuckled sheepishly.

"Don't be." She ran a thoughtful finger down the door frame. "Most mansions don't have more than one master bedroom." Squirrelflight shot Crowfeather a bemused glance when he let out a faint snort at his mother's words. She was being polite—most main houses fostered multiple master bedrooms for the various heritage aristocrats who lived there. Being a fairly new and tight-knit house, Zephyra had yet to accept any new, incoming aristocrats.

"Come on," Squirrelflight said, tugging the blue-eyed man away from their parents. "You can have the room you usually stay in." As they stepped into the bedroom, Crowfeather's eyes softened with nostalgia. The redheaded aristocrat smiled, remembering the times when Tawnypelt, Feathertail, and herself would pile into the boy's room and play cards until their parents came to scold them.

"Three years ago, huh?" Crowfeather mused, settling on the edge of the bed and picking gently at the sheets. He gave Squirrelflight a lopsided grin before lifting his head to the ceiling. "Three years was a long time ago."

"Sure feels that way," the redhead chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. Three years ago, their lives had been simpler, more innocent, and more carefree. Brambleclaw, who used to share a guest room with Crowfeather and Stormfur when he visited now slept down the hall from Squirrelflight. Feathertail, who used to coax Leafpool out of her room to join the rest of the girls in the den, had moved onto Starreign. Stormfur, who once stood protectively by his sister's side was no gone—spirited away by some unknown force. It was almost as if the seven of them were living in a different life and standing in a different man's shoes. Everything felt inconsistent and alien. "Have you decided who to send to war?" She asked suddenly.

Crowfeather stared at her for a few moments before he regained his composure. "Like the decree state, one-fourth of our aristocratic population. Most of them are men, but they almost seemed less motivated than our women were." He winced and Squirrelflight couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "My father's going to be fighting as well. He knew that the inherited aristocrats wouldn't take to the idea of war if we didn't have a heritage aristocrat representing Ebenwing."

"That's ridiculous!"

"That's what my mother said when my father rejected her request to go in his place."

"Don't they need keep every heritage aristocrats on the home front?" Squirrelflight's gaze fell to her feet. "After all, Willowpelt's health is teetering on a thin line right now…"

"There's nothing we can do to about that." Crowfeather shifted on the bed. "Besides, my father is convinced that he's too old to be considered for the Gaian throne." He rested his elbow on his knees. "He passed on the title of head to me." A bitter chuckle left his lips. "Can you believe that? Me? Head of Ebenwing? Head of a dying house?" He shook his head with a grimace. "It was all so different when I was a child," he whispered.

"And now you have to worry about being chosen for the throne," Squirrelflight murmured.

"I find it unlikely to become the Gaian king if I'm already the head of Ebenwing. A more likely choice would be Brambleclaw."

"That's right…he's a heritage aristocrat."

"I don't exactly understand why you're not elated about that."

"That kind of position is stressful," Squirrelflight said, sitting on the bed beside her friend. "I don't think either of us wants that kind of life. If Brambleclaw becomes king…we'd have to keep up appearances, run the Empire, and have so many more responsibilities." Her shoulders drooped. "You know, Dustpelt wanted to take Brambleclaw as his successor, but Brambleclaw turned him down. He wanted to come  _here_ , with me, and live a simple life."

"The life of an aristocrat is depressingly simple," Crowfeather agreed, rolling his eyes. "No money, no nothing." Squirrelflight swatted him and he gave her a half-hearted glare.

"You know what I mean! We want a life where we don't have to worry about politics or the nitty-gritty things about the government and the civilians. Where we can do the things we want to do, learn the things we want to learn, and pursue the things that we're passionate about."

"If only life were that simple," he replied with a snort. "So? What about your family?"

Squirrelflight's eyes fell to her feet again. "Papa wanted to go, but Mama took his place instead. They got into a huge fight about it last night, but I think Mama really is going to be fighting for us." She laced her fingers together. "Graystripe said that he's going too, even though Herobexy already volunteered its knights in place for its aristocrats."

"Moral support." He tapped his fingers on the bed sheets. "If only our inherited and heritage houses were close enough for that." She gazed at him for a few long moments before straightening up and giving him an optimistic smile.

"Well, on a lighter note, my wedding's coming up. We're planning it now, but we may not get to celebrate until Mama and Graystripe come home from war." Her smile faltered slightly. "It'll be a form of motivation for them to keep fighting and to push through."

"Yeah," Crowfeather breathed, lying down on his back. "We'll need all the motivation we can get."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> settled on the far right corner of the curved table* - The image I'm trying to make here is of a Judge's bench because that's what I was thinking of when I wrote this scene. I felt that putting the "bench" in there would confuse quite a few people (because it confused me in the beginning too) and also the word "judge" implies that there's a court case going on. I just want to say that if you guys want to see how the table actually looks like, just look up a Judge's Bench.


	14. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Leafpool stumbles into a new country and tries to build a life for herself, the events that occurred during her escape come to her attention. Stuck in a strange land with different ideals and religions, she struggles to make a name for herself and her service as a doctor. Little does she know, Starreign has one task waiting for her in the Empire...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who kudoed/commented!
> 
> WARNING: Birthing scene below. It does get a little graphic, but nothing too explicit.

Third Person – Leafpool

Her heart grew heavy with fear as her bag of coins grew lighter and lighter with each town. She had managed to avoid the gate guards of the capital city, but she had to bribe the guards of Larkwing’s city with a hefty amount of money. Providing bribes made them turn a blind eye on those entering and exiting the walled city and she wouldn’t be recorded as a foreigner on the guards’ reports. It would’ve been easier to identify herself as Firestar’s daughter on a riding trip, but she could feel her father’s red hounds nipping at her heels each time she stopped for a breath of air.

Her pouch felt weightless as she hastily shoved it back into her pockets, nodding at the border guards before slipping over the Ancansuran-Empirian border. The faint clink of coins trimmed the edge off her worries, but she couldn’t help but squeeze Varnish’s sides for good measure to race past the border guards. More than half of her savings had been passed to the guards to avoid having her name, mother country, and her basic characteristics—sex, hair and eye color, and height—recorded in the Emperian quota record.

Her next few days were spent trying to adapt to the Ancansurian lifestyle. Their customs, although unfamiliar, were simple and their cultural diversity made it easy for her to ease into her new life. Despite her disinterest in politics and the international relations between the countries, Leafpool was thankful that Ancansura had the same currency and national language as the Empire. She faintly remembered her father explaining the economic system that had once been shared on the eastern side of the continent before its eventual collapse sixty years ago. Ancansura and the Empire were the only two nations to continue the shared currency.

Leafpool purchased a small plot of land with a few rebas and spent her remaining rebas on medicinal supplies and manual labor from her neighboring farmers. With their assistance, she built a house that took up a large amount of her land and an extended roof at the back of her house to shelter Varnish. After finishing renovations, she thanked the family that provided her with shelter and began to provide her medicinal knowledge and expertise to the semi-rural village. She spent most of the week roaming around the neighboring city, offering her services to anyone who had ears open to her. The doctor who lived in the city of Brilstone viewed her as a threat and did everything in his power to limit her attempts at business.

She had been approached multiple times by drunkards, thieves, and other such criminals, but each time Varnish sent them sprinting for the safety of the shadows with a threatening kick in their direction. Amazingly enough, the chestnut stallion did wonders for scaring off aggressors and acted as a sort of bodyguard for her whenever she visited the city.

Leafpool sighed, absentmindedly twirling a lock of Varnish’s mane between her fingers. The village of Bluepeak was surprisingly self-sufficient—most of the villagers were farmers who sold their surplus in Brilstone while others were masters of various trades. There was a shoemaker and a weaver who lived in the center of the village, and many farmers’ wives took up embroidery as a pastime when there a few minutes of rest. Whatever the village lacked, its inhabitants would find in the city of Brilstone. Having a doctor in the village would be an added bonus—but a superfluous addition nonetheless.

The outskirts of the village were swampy and housed many different species of medicinal plants. Most of the villagers were satisfied with their crop output and weren’t interested in the labor that would be invested in uprooting the swamp, so they left it alone. On the days that she didn’t visit Brilstone, Leafpool explored the marsh, plotting a map to record the locations of each herb she discovered. Before long, her stores were stocked with medicinal ingredients and she made salves to sell as she wandered the streets of Brilstone.

The children of Bluepeak often spent their afternoons running out into the fields in search of flowers or beetles. The more careless of the bunch frequently came in contact with poison oak or ivy and trudge around the village with large pieces of cloth wrapped around their arms to prevent scratching. Leafpool often met them with a poultice and she eventually had a crowd of children visiting her for scratches, bandages, and injured animals for her to heal. The villagers, though wary, slowly became more accustomed to her practices and she began to see more interested heads poke into her home for suggestions and balms.

Leafpool’s stomach growled, jolting her back into reality. Flushing, she patted Varnish when he nuzzled her abdomen curiously. Although the villagers were willing to exchange medical attention for food, most of her ‘patients’ were children with minor injuries or rashes. Her meals mostly consisted of wild grasses and plants with the occasional vegetable thrown in whenever she could afford to purchase a few from a neighbor. Varnish seemed perfectly content with the grass in the marsh, but she couldn’t help but miss the days where she fed him apples and high-quality oats.

The chestnut stallion lipped at her neck, nickering at her when she rested her forehead against his cheek. “Yes, yes, Varnish,” she murmured. “I’ll go to bed now.” Patting his neck one more time, she nestled against him as he curled up underneath his roof. Bedding was currently the least of her concerns, although it didn’t do well to wake up with aching joints. She was too used to feathery comforters and plush beds. _Hopefully there’ll be something worth living for tomorrow._

* * *

 

_Smooth, damp pebbles rolled under her paws. Leafpool felt tears prickle the corners of her eyes—it had been so long since her last dream. She turned in circles excitedly, taking in the crisp, clean air and the familiar scents around her. Who would be here to greet her this time? “Yellowfang? Bluestar?” She faltered when the only reply she received was the sound of the water lapping at the pebbly shore. “Is anyone here?”_

_A soft crunching noise alerted her as a beautiful silver tabby stepped into the clearing. Her blue eyes sparkled at the sight of the brown she-cat and she bounded forward with a purr. Leafpool took a step back—she had never seen this cat before. She squinted at the silver tabby and flicked her ears uneasily. Who was this she-cat?_

_“Leafpool,” the blue-eyed cat purred, touching noses with her. “It’s been so long.” Her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears. “If only our last moments together weren’t spent over wedding rings.”_

_The brown she-cat felt a shiver race up her spine. “Feathertail?” Her blood chilled at the sight of the silver tabby. “Why are—how—?” A silver tail-tip brushed against her muzzle, silencing her._

_“There was a border raid in the city of Poltin.” A haunted look crossed the tabby’s face. “A wooden support beam fell on me when I tried to stop some children from running out in the fray.” A lump formed in Leafpool’s throat at the thought of the silver-haired aristocrat huddled over a crying child._

_“Does…?”_

_“Yes, of course. But there’s something he doesn’t know.” Feathertail’s eyes were glassed over with guilt. “I never loved him the way he wanted me to. I was,” she continued shakily, “in love with one of the servants in my house. I thought I that if I was engaged to Crowfeather, I could,” she paused, blinking rapidly. “I could stall until I gained enough courage to elope.” She shifted on her paws. “I regret what I did,” she admitted, glancing at Leafpool hesitantly. “I didn’t realize how much you felt for Crowfeather until…”_

_“You saw?” Leafpool’s voice cracked._

_“Yes.” Feathertail ducked her head, stuttering slightly. “I didn’t mean to see, but I was waiting to talk to you and—” she broke off, her whiskers lowering. “I’m sorry.”_

_“He probably thought I was you,” Leafpool whispered. Her heart clenched and she bowed her head._

_“Leafpool, please listen to me,” Feathertail urged. “I’ve tried to walk in other people’s dreams, but none of them are listening. I wrote a letter to Crowfeather before I,” she paused, hesitating slightly, “left. It’s in the hidden drawer under my desk.”_

_“I can’t go back,” Leafpool choked out. “My family can’t know what happened to me.”_

_“I know.” Feathertail pressed her forehead against the brown tabby’s reassuringly. Leafpool leaned into the touch, grateful for the she-cat’s warmth. “But I need you to send a message to someone who_ can _tell Crowfeather where to find it.” Her blue eyes met Leafpool’s. “Write to Featherpelt and tell him what to do. He’s the only one who knows where you’ve gone, right?” Her claws flexed against the underlying pebbles. “I can’t leave Crowfeather hanging like this,” she growled. “But Starreign is against us visiting anyone who isn’t—” she broke off, shaking her head roughly. “Please, Leafpool.”_

_The brown she-cat’s heart clenched uneasily. “Okay.”_

_“Thank you, Leafpool.” The silver tabby’s eyes glowed. “Starreign has great plans for you. The first obstacle has only appeared.” She brushed her muzzle against the brown she-cat’s ear. “There’s a woman in labor in the city of Brilstone,” she whispered urgently. “She’s experiencing some difficulties and the midwives are fairly inexperienced. She’s on the second floor of Raptor Inn.”_

_“Feathertail,” Leafpool started, but the silver tabby nudged her forward._

_“Go!”_ The dream faded and Leafpool found herself shaking on the wooden floor, a fretful Varnish hovering over her. Staggering to her feet, she leaned against the doorframe for a few moments to regain her bearings. Her adrenaline spiked as she threw on her cloak and tugged the chestnut stallion outside. Quickly mounting him, she squeezed his sides, and the two took off into the night.

* * *

 

Leafpool leapt off of Varnish’s back and took his face between her hands. “Stay,” she whispered, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. A scream split the night and she hurried to the door just as a pale man burst out of the inn. His pupils were dilated as he stumbled forward.

“Doctor,” he stammered, grabbing ahold of Leafpool and shaking her hard. She winced as his fingertips dug into her arm and Varnish gave a warning snort. “My daughter needs a doctor—please—”

“Sir, I am doctor,” she told him. “I can help. Take me to your daughter.”

“Oh thank God—oh thank God,” he mumbled fervently, pushing her into the inn. The two of them hurried upstairs and Leafpool pulled off her coat as she stepped into the first open door. A young woman arched her back, a strangled cry escaping her as her fingers scrabbled at the bed sheets. Beside her, an older woman cooed reassuringly, dabbing at the laboring woman’s forehead with a damp cloth. Two midwives stood at the base of the bed, whispering worriedly as they glanced back and forth between the distressed woman and each other.

Leafpool resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she strode towards the bed. “Close the door,” she told the man as she ignored the midwives’ pointed glares. She dipped her hands in a metal basin by the bed and encouraged the older woman to continue soothing the laboring mother-to-be. Once her hands were thoroughly cleaned, Leafpool leaned down and tapped the distressed woman’s shoulder to gain her attention.

“Hey there,” she whispered. “I’m Leafpool and I’m here to help you.” She squeezed the woman’s shoulder reassuringly. “Everything’s going to be alright.” The dark-haired woman stared up at the brunette, blinking away tears as she nodded.

“Please,” she croaked. “Please.” Leafpool gave her shoulder one last squeeze approaching the fretting man.

“Where’s the father of her child?” she asked softly.

“Downstairs.” A fearful look crossed his face. “Do you need him?”

“You’ll suffice.” She led him to his daughter’s bedside. “Tell her that she’s doing well,” she murmured. “She’ll need all the support she can get.” Patting the man firmly on the back, she headed to the base of the bed.

“You’re not welcome here,” the shorter midwife hissed as she approached.

“Now is hardly the time to determine that,” Leafpool replied, kneeling. “I assume you have the necessary instruments?” When the midwives failed to reply, the brunette raised an eyebrow at them. “Well?”

The shorter woman threw an irritated glare at her partner before bringing over a stack of towels and a pair of scissors. The other midwife draped a towel over the laboring woman’s midsection while Leafpool slid another under the woman’s hips. “I can see the crown of the baby,” she said, squinting slightly. “You’re doing great.” She glanced at the taller midwife and nodded at the mother-to-be. “Name?” she whispered.

“Rennae.” The midwife swallowed nervously as the laboring woman’s legs tensed.

“Rennae, I’m going to need you to push, alright? But you have to rest in between.” Leafpool turned to the shorter midwife. “I need you to tell her to push when you feel a contraction,” she murmured. “But she has to rest in between them.” The blonde looked disgruntled at first, but rushed into position when the laboring woman gave a low moan of pain.

“Is she going to be alright?” the taller midwife whispered.

“It’s her first birth—it’s going to be slow and painful,” Leafpool replied. She had only witnessed three births before—Varnish’s, a calf’s, and a woman who went into labor on the streets. Her brain raced through the memories of Littlecloud guiding the woman through the process. _Great Starreign, I don’t know what I’m doing!_

She placed her hand in the space between Rennae’s legs, prepared to ease the baby from its birth canal. Images of Littlecloud cupping his hands flashed through Leafpool’s head as she waited for its head to emerge. Panic seized her as her arm began to shake.

 _Relax, Leafpool._ A firm hand trailed down her back. Leafpool shivered as a warm hand supported hers. _Everything’s going to be alright now. Just focus on my voice._ The brunette’s head felt fuzzy as the voice continued. She could faintly hear the shorter midwife urging Rennae to push. _When the head is out, the rest of the baby will come easily._ She felt the top of the crown resting against the palm of her hand as the laboring woman continued to push. _Careful, the umbilical cord is wrapped around its neck. Loosen it._ Leafpool’s hand quivered as she slipped a finger under the milky, bluish cord. _That’s it. Slowly._

Her neck burned with heat as she gently tugged the umbilical cord aside. The warm, pulsing sensation startled her at first, but the voice in her ear was quiet and reassuring. _The rest of the child will slip out quickly now. Take your other hand and cradle it. Don’t pull on the baby._ Leafpool rose and leaned forward, her hand cupping where the baby’s shoulders would slide out. The shorter midwife rested her hand on the Rennae’s abdomen, urging the laboring woman to push harder. _Get her hand off the mother—immediately!_

“Take your hand of her,” Leafpool growled, startling everyone. She kept her eyes on the baby. “Don’t push on the abdomen.” Rennae made a low, strangled noise and the rest of the infant slid out. The brunette doctor nearly stumbled as she caught the child and guided it— _no,_ him—onto a blanket a few inches away from his mother. _Don’t let the umbilical cord pull tight. Keep it nice and loose._ Leafpool tested the cord, relaxing slightly when it dipped under her touch.

 _Give it a light spanking—you’ll need to clear his throat._ Administering a sharp tap on the baby’s bottom, Leafpool heard a rough cough and an irritated cry in her ear. _Alright, now clean his face. Gently, with gauze. Cover your finger and wipe his mouth._ “Gauze,” she said. “Do we have gauze?” The material was quickly pushed into her hands and she brushed at the baby’s lips. _Rest him on his stomach—make sure that the umbilical cord is in reach and that his head is resting on its side. Cover him with a blanket to make sure he doesn’t get cold._

Leafpool’s hands tingled as she obeyed the voice in her ear. She almost felt as if someone else were controlling her body as she called for some string. _Cut it carefully._ Her fingers closed around the scissors as the metal blades severed the cord. _Put the other end on the towel on the mother’s abdomen. Wrap up her baby and give him to her—he should start suckling soon._ Leafpool hurried to Rennae’s side and turned the baby so he was resting on her chest. She moved the new mother’s hands accordingly until the infant was nestled in her arms, his mouth seeking her breast.

 _Make sure his suckling doesn’t block his airways. Keep his head angled._ Leafpool gently tilted the baby’s head when he latched onto his mother. _He’s a fighter that one_ , the voice rasped, a low laugh rumbling through Leafpool’s ears. _You forgot to tell Mama about her baby._ Blinking down at Rennae, Leafpool felt a smile pull at her lips. “It’s a boy,” she breathed. The weary mother’s eyes glowed as she gazed down at the suckling baby, a gentle flush dusting her cheeks.

 _Your job’s not over yet,_ the voice warned. _The placenta will be birthed soon. Warn the mother._ Leafpool straightened and returned to the base of the bed, keeping Rennae’s legs apart. “Leafpool?” the woman asked worriedly. “Is something wrong?”

“Don’t panic, Rennae.” The brunette doctor started at the sound of her own voice. How was she so calm? “I’m going to need you to push again. You need to give birth to the placenta, which is the pouch your baby was in when you were carrying him. It’s not very painful and it’ll be out easily.” She gave the new mother a reassuring smile. “I promise.”

When the dark-haired woman began to push again, Leafpool nearly started at the sight of the placenta. The voice chuckled in her ear as she gently eased the engorged organ out of the mother. Following it was a wave of blood and Leafpool dabbed at Rennae before gently easing the towel out from underneath her. _Wrap the placenta in a towel._ The voice paused thoughtfully. _She can eat it if she wants to—there are health benefits to eating it._ The brunette doctor frowned as she wiped at much blood as possible. _Increased milk production and breast size…_

“I’m afraid she’ll faint if I offer it to her,” Leafpool muttered under her breath. _Suit yourself,_ the voice replied. _But most mothers do shy away from it._ Wrapping the placenta and setting it to the side, Leafpool headed for the water basin to wash her hands. After scrubbing her skin clean, two hands clasped her shoulders and turned her around. Rennae’s father gazed at her, a mixture of gratefulness and wonder shining in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “God bless.” _Ah, them and their god_ , the voice mused. _We don’t really see a lot of them in the Empire. Starreign_ is _our national religious base._ “How could we ever repay you?”

Gazing at Rennae and the baby curled in her arms, a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through Leafpool’s chest. “I think you already have.”

* * *

 

Third Person – Featherpelt

“A dream from Starreign?” Cinderpelt’s blue eyes raked over him. “They rarely visit anyone—doctors and prophets alike.”

 _Mon dieu_ , Featherpelt thought. _The things I do for love._ “I saw a silver cat with blue eyes,” he insisted. “It told me that it had left something for Crowfeather. Something about a secret compartment in a desk.” He felt heat rise in his cheeks as he tried to remember the script Leafpool had written to him just a week ago. He must’ve missed something by now—Cinderpelt’s eyes were growing more suspicious with each passing moment. It wouldn’t be long before she realized he was lying.

“It’s worth a try,” Whiteear said, breaking through the silence. “Featherpelt’s intuition has rarely led me astray.”

“You’re only saying that in his defense,” the aristocrat accused. A distant look crossed her face and Featherpelt felt his heart clench at how dazed she looked. There was no doubt that Leafpool was on her mind and every time she saw Featherpelt, it was a stark reminder that her own apprentice was no longer there. The blond looked away, a bitter lump forming in his throat. It pained him to keep the details of Leafpool’s location away from her mentor, but he couldn’t betray her after all the trust she put in him. “I’ll pass the news onto Graystripe and Crowfeather. Did the cat say anything about which desk?”

“I think sh—it said something about Ebenwing.” Featherpelt’s heart leapt into his throat when Cinderpelt gave him a wary look.

“That’ll take days to dig up then,” she dismissed it with a sigh. “Half of the manor is collapsed. They’re still clearing the rubble and they’ve only gotten through a small bit.” Since a good proportion of the aristocratic force was off at war and the heritage family of Ebenwing wasn’t able to find solace in the other manors, the swell of servants were directed to the inherited mansions.

“Speaking of which, Crowfeather’s staying at Zephyra, isn’t he? It’ll be easy for you to pass the message onto him, then,” Whiteear said.

“I suppose so. He and his mother are likely going to living with us until the war is over and everything is sorted out. Deadfoot was called in a few days ago—and it won’t be long until Sandstorm and Graystripe will be reporting to duty.” The aristocrat’s blue eyes darkened. “First we lose Leafpool and then this? Firestar and Squirrelflight can’t afford to lose either Sandstorm or Graystripe to the war.”

“The war is hard on all of us,” Whiteear murmured. “I just hope Leafpool doesn’t find herself stuck in the warfront. She probably doesn’t even know what’s going on right now.” Even though the word had spread like wildfire, Featherpelt knew that it would take a few more days to pass the news onto Ancansura. There would likely be military assistance from the neighboring country—it was on strong diplomatic terms with the Empire and the two nations had an interlocked history. It would pose a shock to the entire Empire if Ancansura was to turn a blind eye on their situation.

“I should go—Firestar’s been trying to keep me from joining the war effort for the past few days and he’s convinced that every time I stay out late it’s because I’ve joined the war medics.” Cinderpelt shook her head as she headed for the door. “It seems that even my past injuries won’t keep me away from the warfront. They want the best of the best out there—disabled or not.” She wiggled her bad leg with a sigh.

“Tell me how it goes with Crowfeather and the others,” Whiteear told her, holding the shop door open.

“I will,” she promised, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’ll see me tomorrow—that is, if the medicinal community doesn’t capture me first.”

* * *

 

Third Person – Crowfeather

_Dear Crowfeather,_

_It breaks my heart that I will never be able to face you again once you have received this letter. By this time, you’ve realized that I’ve betrayed you in the worst way possible. I betrayed your heart, Crowfeather, and that crime is inexcusable. I know how much you loved me, even if you had a hard time showing it. My largest regret is that I was never capable of loving you the way you loved me._

_But there was no other way around it. I couldn’t live with Crookedstar breathing down my neck—I couldn’t live with waking up to you every morning and thinking how horrible it is that I didn’t love you—_

_I had to go. I couldn’t bear hurt you more than I already had. The guilt was eating me alive, Crowfeather, and I had to escape before it killed me._

_I’m sorry I used you. I’m sorry I pretended to love you. I’m sorry that I lied and cheated on you under your own roof. I’m sorry for making you feel guilty for every little moment you wanted with me. I’m sorry I used my brother’s disappearance as an excuse to postpone our wedding._

_I wish I could’ve fallen in love with you and make all of this right, but it seems that love is much more unforgiving than that. But now I see that you deserve much better than me, much better than I could ever offer._

_Have you ever tried looking at the woman who’s always stood beside you?_

_I will say no more than this—I have betrayed enough people already. I hope you realize who has loved you all these years and I hope you find it in your heart to love again._

_Please find it in your heart to forgive me—I can’t bear to enter Starreign without your forgiveness._

_If only the world could be different,_

Crowfeather stared at the letter in his hand, blotched and ink-stained from the tears that must’ve fallen when Feathertail had written it. It was only when he heard Graystripe’s cry of anguish that he realized his fingers had curled over the parchment and proceeded to crumple it. Numbed, the blue-eyed man watched as his former fiancée’s father coaxed the papers out of his hands and proceeded to read. He felt the temperature drop when the Herobexy aristocrat’s eyes trailed over the last few lines of the letter.

“I’m so sorry, Crowfeather,” the gray-haired man croaked after a few moments. His amber eyes were watery and straining to stay open. Graystripe suddenly looked much older, as if he had aged over the time he had taken to read his daughter’s letter. The sunny, childish gleam in his eye faded into a dull echo of warmth and the wrinkles on his face became more pronounced. It was as if the light that had glowed within the aristocrat had been sucked out by an unknown force—the same force that took Feathertail, Stormfur, Leafpool, and all the others who were lost to Crowfeather.

Struck by a sudden wave of empathy, the blue-eyed aristocrat wrapped his arms around Graystripe and the two of them hugged each other tightly. Crowfeather heard someone tap the doorframe inquisitively before letting out a soft gasp and rushing from the scene.

He couldn’t bring himself to care about Ebenwing’s reputation anymore—it was already a dying house. Even if he were to have children there would be no guarantee that they would possess heritage blood. He couldn’t find it in himself to sympathize with the sniveling inherited aristocrats or the disloyal, gossiping servants. If anything, he wanted to abdicate his position of head of the house if his father was to ever pass it onto him. He would join one of the other houses—at least, any that would be willing to take him and his mother in.

“Crowfeather?” Graystripe’s soft voice gently brought the blue-eyed aristocrat back into reality. “The woman Feathertail mentioned in the letter…do you know who she is?”

“I think so,” Crowfeather murmured. In his mind, he could picture glowing amber eyes and silky, honey-brown hair. “But I guess I’ll never know.”

* * *

 

Third Person - Leafpool

Feathertail became a frequent visitor in Leafpool’s dreams. The silver she-cat often pulled her aside whenever Yellowfang was finished lecturing her about various medical topics and connected to her on a more emotional level than the gray medicine cat ever attempted to. The brunette had tried to thank Yellowfang for her guidance during Rennae’s delivery, but the flat-faced she-cat merely stared at her until she grew uncomfortable and dropped the topic. Feathertail reassured Leafpool that Yellowfang treated everyone like this—regardless of how close they were to her.

 _“It’s a kind of defense mechanism,” she explained. “She’s carried a large burden for a long time.” The silver she-cat rubbed the sides of her paws together. “Most of us have.”_ Needless to say, the conversation ended quickly.

Although Leafpool was partially overwhelmed by how close she and Feathertail had grown over the course of the past few weeks, she was thankful for the support that she found in the silver she-cat. When Featherpelt’s letter informed her of her mother and Graystripe’s participation in the war, Feathertail had been waiting for her on the pebbly shore, ready to bat away whatever grief was holding Leafpool prisoner.

While the silver she-cat supported the brunette in her dreams, another force was working actively in her life. Rennae’s well-structured social network made Leafpool a well-known and well-talked about doctor in days. Before long, Leafpool’s home was flooded with patients and she was relocated to a slightly larger plot in the middle of the village to accommodate everyone’s needs. A new building was constructed for her and the builders took the liberty of creating a second floor at Rennae’s command.

Leafpool had tried to refuse the dark-haired woman’s generosity on multiple occasions, but the new mother merely shushed the brunette and proceeded as if no protests had been made. “Your room will be upstairs along with a bathroom, storage room, and a small living room,” Rennae had told her, on her tour through the half-constructed home. “Downstairs will be a larger bathroom, a kitchen and a sitting room, but most of the space will be for your patients. Oh, and my father will be helping you furnish the entire plot, so don’t worry about interior décor.”

The brunette eventually gave in to Rennae’s insistencies after being reminded several times that she had refused the new mother’s initial offer to help her open a shop in the city of Brilstone. Leafpool was uncomfortable with the amount material wealth that was being poured into her new clinic, but she had a feeling that any protests she made would be interpreted as complaints that would only lead to more ‘gifts’.

 _At least you’re closer to the swamp now,_ Leafpool thought as she stepped into her new home. She had been spending the last few weeks in Rennae’s care and tending to patients in the middle of Brilstone Square. Needless to say, she was desperate to gain some sort of relief from the chaotic city life and return to a more secluded, familiar area. Years of living in a detached, well-forested manor made Leafpool inexperienced with crowds of peasants and other such civilians.

Tomorrow would be the grand opening of her new clinic, and based on the number of peasants that swarmed around her in the square today, there would be a fairly large group of patients waiting for her in the morning. Sighing, Leafpool sank into her bed and allowed sleep to claim her.

* * *

 

_She was startled to see three pairs of eyes looking down at her when she awoke. Blinking blearily at the cats before her, Leafpool yawned and wrapped her tail around her paws. “Is something wrong?” she asked, looking over Bluestar, Yellowfang, and Feathertail. It was uncommon for all three of them to be present in the same dream and Bluestar’s presence made Leafpool all the more concerned. The blue she-cat’s presence was rare—seeing that Feathertail and Yellowfang usually tended to her every need._

_“I’m afraid we’ve been keeping something of significance from you,” Bluestar murmured. Feathertail kept her eyes focused on her paws and even Yellowfang refrained from making a snide comment. Leafpool felt the fur on her shoulders rise slightly at the tense atmosphere. What exactly was going on? “In a matter of a few months, you may feel the increased urge to return home.”_

_“Home?” Leafpool’s blood chilled at the thought of her family. “No, I can’t possibly—”_

_“Believe me, Leafpool, you’ll want to go home for this one,” Feathertail mumbled. The brown she-cat shot the tabby a look, but the blue-eyed tabby kept her eyes glued on her paws._

_“It’s completely understandable why you would want to return—in fact, we would even encourage you to do so—” Bluestar continued._

_“I don’t understand,” Leafpool broke in. “I_ can’t _go home.” The blue she-cat blinked at her._

_“It’s not a matter of ‘cannot’ or ‘will not’, Leafpool,” she chastised. “It’s for the greater good.”_

_“The greater good? What in Starreign’s name are you talking about?”_

_“I’m—”_

_“Damn it all—you’re pregnant, okay?” Yellowfang snapped. Leafpool felt her heart skip a beat as the atmosphere grew even tenser. Feathertail shifted on her paws and Bluestar looked to the side in frustration. “You’re pregnant and it’ll be a matter of months before you start showing.” The gray she-cat paused. “Significantly.”_

_“There’s still seven more months,” Bluestar said. “You should start saving money for the trip immediately. The Empire’s nearly on lockdown with the war on Mirviran and the guards will be even harder to bribe than before.”_

_“Leafpool, we’ll protect you,” Feathertail blurted out. “We’ll be with you every step of the way just—” her eyes were filled with a mixture of guilt and sincerity. “Please go home. Don’t bring it on yourself to give birth here. Don’t bring them into a world of strangers, please.”_

_Leafpool took a staggering step backwards. “This isn’t happening,” she croaked._

_“Your monthly bleeding hasn’t occurred yet,” Yellowfang said. “In a few days you should be feeling nauseous and dizzy.” Her yellow gaze pierced the brown she-cat. “Take control of the situation now, Leafpool. There is no time for denial.” A bitter look crossed the gray medicine cat’s face. “Starreign knows all.”_

_“I can’t—” Leafpool bowed her head, drowning in disbelief and grief. Feathertail was by her side in seconds, curling around her and letting out uncertain purrs*._

_“It will take time to accept what has happened,” Bluestar murmured. “But all will come to light in time.” Her blue eyes glowed in the night. “You were destined to carry these children.”_

_“I don’t understand,” Leafpool choked out._

_“All will come to light in time.” Bluestar bowed her head and the dream faded._

* * *

 

The next few months came at Leafpool in a blur. Her abdomen swelled and her first few mornings were met with bile in her throat and waves of nausea that threatened to sweep her feet out from underneath her. Each time she found herself hunched over a bucket, however, she could almost feel gentle, cool hands stroking her face and back. The scent around her reminded her of Feathertail and each trip to the bucket was soothed by her touch.

Her business seemed to mirror the growth her body was experiencing. The first few days were swelled with peasants who weren’t able to afford to pricey doctors in the city. Civilians traveled across the country in search of her services and her reputation grew with each passing day. Leafpool was more than pleased to tend their needs, but the overwhelming number of patients took a huge toll on her mental and physical health. Thankfully, the frenzy died after a few weeks, but there was still a steady stream of peasants visiting her clinic.

In the beginning, Leafpool offered her services in exchange for food and other necessities. Her policy was quickly changed, however, when she found that everyone’s choice of payment was edible. Bluestar’s advice on saving money for her trip to the Empire always lingered in the back of Leafpool’s mind and she encouraged her patients to pay her with whatever money they could spare. However, there was still a good fraction of patients who traded food for medical attention and Leafpool found herself sharing her treats with the village children, her neighbors, and her patients to keep them from spoiling.

Most of her patients were sympathetic when she announced her plans to leave Ancansura for a few months to tend to her newborns, but several sideways glances informed her that they were far more reluctant than they were willing to show. Leafpool dreaded the thought of tending to patients while also caring for her children, but Rennae reassured her that she would gladly take Leafpool’s children on a play date with her son.

Yellowfang informed her early on that she should consider leaving two weeks before her due date and Leafpool was more than willing to take her advice. The thought of leaving too late and having to birth her children in an unfamiliar and potentially dangerous setting was terrifying. No matter what, she would leave early to avoid any complications.

 _Today’s the day_ , Leafpool thought, resting a hand on her rounded form. Some of her patients had eyed her warily as she waddled around the clinic, nearly convinced that her abdomen would explode if she brushed up against something too roughly. She couldn’t blame them—she almost felt as if she had tucked an enormous watermelon under her breasts. Murmuring thanks to the various hands that helped her onto Varnish’s back, she smoothed her riding pants and patted his neck.

“Let’s go home, Varnish,” she whispered. The chestnut stallion tossed his mane excitedly and set off at a steady trot, quickly leaving Bluepeak Village in the dust. _Featherpelt must’ve gotten my letter by now_ , Leafpool thought. _It would be horrible if he wasn’t expecting me_. She chuckled inwardly, a fond smile gracing her lips. Although the thought of seeing her friend again delighted her, she couldn’t fight off the unease that followed with it. What if she was recognized by someone walking the streets—or if one of the guards betrayed her trust? She couldn’t afford to have anyone recognize her, but there was little she could do at this point in time.

 _“We_ will _protect you_. _”_ Feathertail’s words rang through Leafpool’s head and she nodded dazedly, taking comfort in the silver tabby’s confidence. She repeated this sentence at the end of every dream Leafpool shared with the Starreign cats, and before long, she had convinced the brunette that most of her concerns would be taken care of. Unfortunately, this didn’t take the edge off of the natural fears that Leafpool held for her unborn children and herself.

She swallowed nervously and patted Varnish’s neck to reassure herself that he was still there. The stallion tossed a concerned glance over his shoulder, but continued calmly on his way, already accustomed to Leafpool’s nervous habits. The steady, rhythmic sound of Varnish’s hooves soothed the brunette and she relaxed her grip on the reigns.

* * *

 

Third Person – Featherpelt

“Leafpool should be here any day now,” Featherpelt told Starflower as he brushed past her with an armful of linens. Setting them on the nightstand, he began to clean the guest room. “Not to mention that, but she should be due in a week.” He shook his head in frustration. “ _Sacré bleu_ , that woman should not be moving around so much!”

“She wants to see you,” Starflower told him in a matter-of-factly tone. She bounced their daughter in her arms before pressing a kiss to their two-year-old’s forehead. “Not to mention that she’d be more comfortable around people she’s known for most of her life. No mother wants to give birth in a place where they’re surrounded by strangers.” She rubbed her nose against her daughter’s lovingly. “A woman is most vulnerable during labor and she’ll want us to be there for her.”

“ _Oui_ ,” Featherpelt agreed, folding the blanket and fluffing the pillows. Satisfied with the arrangement, he leaned in and pecked his wife on the lips. “Are you alright with her staying with us? I know how you like privacy.”

“Of course I’m alright!” Starflower fixed him with an incredulous stare. “I’m the one who insisted that she stay with us in the first place!” Her eyes softened slightly. “She’s one of the best friends you have. You’ve been there for each other through thick and thin—I can’t turn her away after all that she’s done for you. She’s been so kind to both of us.”

“ _Merci_ ,” he whispered. Squeezing her hand gently, he scooped their son into his arms. “We must do whatever we can to protect her,” he murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind Patchwing’s ear. “She is undoubtedly a gift from Starreign herself.” He pressed another kiss to his wife’s mouth before following her out into the hallway. After one last look-over, Featherpelt allowed Starflower to tug him away after he shut the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> curling around her and letting out uncertain purrs* - Cats purr for several reasons: for comforting themselves and others. They also purr when they're in pain (because the vibrations supposedly sooth them) and when they're uncertain of what step to take next.


	15. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leafpool returns to the Empire just as the search for the next Gaian king begins. Every heritage male is sitting on edge, and Squirrelflight fears that Brambleclaw may be forced to take a position of power he never wanted to begin with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who kudoed/commented!

Third Person – Squirrelflight

Squirrelflight kicked her legs into the air, wiggling in her seat as she waited for Cinderpelt to arrive. The smoky-haired aristocrat was in charge of assisting the redhead in her changing room and should've arrived ten minutes ago. "Where is she?" Rising, Squirrelflight brushed off the back of her dress and paced the room. She knew that Cinderpelt's disability made it difficult for her to get around easily, but the blue-eyed aristocrat always left early to counteract her bad leg. Squirrelflight glanced at the door—the wedding recital was going to start in a few minutes.

"Squirrelflight, you ready?" Tawnypelt poked her head in, frowning at the lone aristocrat. "Where's Cinderpelt?"

"I have no idea," the redhead said, tugging her collar uncomfortably. "I guess we'll have to go on with the recital. Papa and the others have to go to a social event later on today."

"Well, we've run through everything outside at least five times, so you can expect everything to be smooth once you go out." Tawnypelt motioned her over to the door. "Everyone's waiting for you." Squirrelflight glanced at the clock before following her friend into the main hall.

 _Cinderpelt's late…she should've been here an hour ago._  The blue-eyed doctor had chosen to stay behind when the manor's carriages were completely filled. She promised she would follow close behind, but the trip to the recital was no more than two hours at most. Astertail should've arrived with Cinderpelt by now. After all, he had left with their fastest carriage.

Squirrelflight shook her head to dispel her anxiety. They may be running late—after all, the horses were most likely exhausted by the time they returned to the manor. Fitting a smile on her face, she joined her companions and walked through the rehearsal.

* * *

 

"Do you want to come to Herobexy with me?" Tawnypelt asked, nudging Squirrelflight with her hip. The two of them watched as Firestar and the other aristocrats piled into the waiting carriages. "There probably isn't much you can do on your own in Zephyra right now."

"I'm a bit tired," the redhead yawned. "I might just go home and sleep."

"Suit yourself." The Herobexy aristocrat waved goodbye before climbing into her coach. The driver tipped his hat to Squirrelflight before pulling out of the recital church.

"I suppose I could borrow a horse or something," she sighed.

"Squirrelflight!" The redhead turned just in time to see Astertail burst through the front gates. She arched an eyebrow at him, taking in his flustered and breathless form.

"Well aren't you late?" she chastised, stepping towards him. "And where's Cinderpelt?"

"At the manor." The brunet shook his head, his steed stamping the ground impatiently. "No time to explain. Get on!" Squirrelflight glanced distastefully at her dress before climbing up behind Astertail. Wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, she clung on for dear life as he squeezed the horse's flanks and took off into the distance.

The world around her faded into a blur as the stableman urged the horse to run faster. Before she knew it, they were back at the manor and Astertail was tugging her off the saddle, pulling her in the direction of the stables. "What in the world is going on here?" she asked as he all but shoved the horse into its stall and took her by the arm. He merely shook his head at her and continued to drag her along until they were in his cabin. Squirrelflight squinted in the dim room, waiting irritably for her eyes to readjust.

A low moan startled her and she blinked warily at the shadowy figure in the corner of the cabin. The redhead leaned forward, her ears straining to pick up whispered words. "—you're going to be alright. Breathe." Squirrelflight frowned at the sound of Cinderpelt's voice. What was she doing in Astertail's cabin? The doctor lifted her head, her blue eyes catching the light filtering through the blinds. Beside her, Featherpelt cooed reassuringly to a shadowed figure. "Is that you, Astertail?"

"Yes—and I brought Squirrelflight." The brunet hastily locked the door behind him and ushered the redhead to where Cinderpelt was sitting. A higher pitched moan echoed through the room and a large lump on Astertail's bed squirmed, pushing aside the blankets.

"Squirrelflight? Squirrelflight!" The aristocrat's heart skipped a beat when she recognized the warm, tender voice of her sister. "Squirrelflight," the woman sobbed.

"Leafa." Squirrelflight was at the woman's side in a second, feeling the familiar sting of tears in her eyes. "Is it really you?" A wandering hand sought hers and a shiver ran through her body when her sister's amber eyes peeked up at her in the darkness. "You have no idea how worried we were," Squirrelflight choked out. "We looked  _everywhere_  for you…"

Leafpool opened her mouth to reply, but her words left her as she let out a strangled cry of pain. Her breathing was heavy and labored as she gazed at her sister, a mixture of love and agony in her eyes. Her hand tightened around Squirrelflight's and a small smile dusted the brunette's lips. "I know," she breathed as a few tears trickled down her face. "I know."

"I hate to break up this reunion, but Leafpool's been in labor for the past five hours and she's just starting to become dilated," Cinderpelt snapped. She turned to Squirrelflight. "Whatever you do, don't let go of her hand," she said. "She needs you—that's the only reason why you're here right now." The redhead gaped at the doctor as she rushed to the foot of the bed. "Astertail and Featherpelt—I need you to grab as many linens and towels from the closets as possible. Try to make a bed on your sofa for the children."

The brunet and the blond bolted, leaving the door ajar behind them. Cinderpelt stroked comforting circles on Leafpool's ankles as the laboring woman shook with each contraction. "Featherpelt showed up just as I was about to leave with Astertail for your recital," the blue-eyed doctor murmured. Squirrelflight tore her eyes away from her sister to gaze at Cinderpelt. "Leafpool had been in labor for an hour already—he said that he couldn't trust anyone to look at her besides me. He trusted me enough to give away Leafpool's presence. And now that I've brought you here, I need you to promise you won't tell your father a word."

"But—"

"Your father will do everything in his power to hold her here." A blue fire burned in the depths of Cinderpelt's eyes. "I love your father dearly, but Leafpool will only suffer if more people know that she's here. You cannot tell  _anyone_ , or you risk your sister's trust." Leafpool let out a low moan and buried her face into Squirrelflight's wrist. The redheaded aristocrat glanced worriedly at her sister before turning back to the doctor. "There can be no exceptions to this. No one aside from us can know. Can you promise me?"

"I…"

"I need to know, Squirrelflight.  _Can you promise me_?"

She was torn. Her upcoming vows pledged that she would not lie to her husband, regardless of how dangerous or horrible the truth may be. Yet she couldn't refuse her sister, who had disappeared without a trace only to return with a heavy secret she couldn't carry on her own. Squirrelflight bowed her head, a war waging in her heart at the thought of either betraying her betrothed or her twin.

But in the end, she was the one who always needed Leafpool, right?

"I promise."

Cinderpelt nodded to her and quickly turned her attention to the laboring woman. Squirrelflight squeezed Leafpool's hand reassuringly and settled on her knees by the bed. "Hey Leafa, you're going to be fine, alright? You're an amazing woman—you're going to get through this—you're almost there." Watery amber eyes blinked up at her as the brunette gave another heart-wrenching cry and arched off the bed. "Share your pain with me, Leafpool," Squirrelflight urged. "It's the least I can do is carry it with you."

Featherpelt and Astertail staggered back into the cabin, red-faced and wheezing. The two men rushed over to the sofa and began arranging the linens to create a make-shift bed. "Did anyone see you?" Cinderpelt asked, glancing over at them.

"No," Astertail breathed. "Thank Starreign for that." Featherpelt stumbled to Leafpool's side and grasped her other hand. Squirrelflight glanced at the towering stack of bed sheets and towels with a wince. There was no way that the maids would overlook the missing linens. It almost looked as if the two men had raided an entire closet.

 _We'll have to come up with a cover-up_ , the redhead thought.  _Most of the servants have the day off, but some of them are bound to hear Leafpool when the babies come._  She grimaced inwardly. _That is, if Leafpool turns out to be as loud as Papa said Mama had been._

A choked cry knocked Squirrelflight back into reality as Leafpool gripped her hand tightly and released it with a sharp intake of breath. "I can see the crown," Cinderpelt announced from the other end of the bed. "Keep pushing, Leafpool. You're doing great."

"Stay strong,  _mon cherié_ ," Featherpelt soothed, placing his hand comfortingly over the brunette's. "Your children will be here in no time."

"Astertail, rest your hand over her stomach," Cinderpelt said. "You need to tell her to push when you feel a contraction." The stableman looked overwhelmed at this point in time, but he nodded mutely and placed his hands over Leafpool. "Don't push down—you'll disturb the process."

"Push," the brunet said after a few seconds. Squirrelflight winced as Leafpool's hand clamped down on hers. On the other side of the bed, she could see Featherpelt pursing his lips as he tried to stave off the pain. "Push."

It almost felt like hours before Leafpool collapsed with a moan and a frustrated wail came from Cinderpelt's side of the bed. Astertail was beside her in seconds, towel in hand. After a few minutes, Squirrelflight found herself staring at a wrinkled, red-faced infant. She was nearly taken aback by how unattractive it was, but a warning glance from Cinderpelt made her swallow her surprise. Leafpool gazed at the baby with a tender light in her eyes and she brushed her nose gently against the golden sprinklings of hair on its head.

"It's a boy," Featherpelt breathed. " _Que c'est beau_."

"You okay, Astertail?" Squirrelflight asked, bemused by the wonder in the stable hand's eyes.

"I've only seen horses birth," he admitted, chuckling. "But even then it's amazing."

"Rest now, Leafpool. You have a few more babies coming along the way," Cinderpelt said, administering a light tap on the brunette's swollen body.

"More?" Squirrelflight's heart leapt into her throat. "How many more?"

"I'd say two," the smoky-haired doctor replied. "Either that, or she has a baby the size of Ferncloud's prized pumpkins." The redhead couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Ferncloud's pumpkins. They were her pride and joy—aside from her family, that is. They weighed about twenty pounds each and used to be carved and processed by the family cooks into desserts and other dishes. "We should be expecting them in the next ten or fifteen minutes. Most mothers don't give birth to babies who are each a second apart."

A strange look crossed Leafpool's face and she groaned. "I think I'm not most mothers," the brunette grit out as her body seized up in another contraction. Her amber eyes widened as a contraction shook her. "Great Starreign!" Cinderpelt rushed back to the base of the bed, hands outstretched in preparation. Astertail hastily wrapped Leafpool's son in a blanket and rushed him over to the sofa.

"Wait—isn't she going to have to push it out again?" Squirrelflight asked, glancing back and forth between her sister and the kneeling doctor.

"Once her water breaks, the next one will slide out immediately. There isn't much of a wait period if she's already dilated." Leafpool's fingers tightened around Squirrelflight's with a gasp. "Towel—Astertail—towel!" The brunette's lower body was quickly lifted to change beddings and Cinderpelt slipped back into position to cradle the incoming baby. "Her water's broke again. Here comes the second one—"

Leafpool collapsed onto the bed with sigh, her eyes glassing over in exhaustion. A shriller cry came from the newborn as Astertail hurried over with the hastily-wiped baby. "A girl, this time," the stable hand said.

Once again, Squirrelflight was startled by the general unattractiveness of the baby. This one was redder than her sibling, and a tuft of black hair decorated her head. Tearing her eyes away from the settling bundle, the redhead glanced at Cinderpelt, who was still crouched by the base of the bed. "One more?" she asked.

"One more," the doctor confirmed. There was a weary gleam in her eye. "I'll be ready for this one." Astertail placed newborn by her brother and hurried back to Leafpool's side. Squirrelflight gazed down at her sister, startled by the exhaustion in the brunette's eyes.

"Stay strong for this one, Leafa," she urged. "Just one more." Leafpool blinked at the redhead before her body tensed up again.

"Her water's broke! Push, Leafpool!" The brunette clenched her teeth and arched off the bed with a strangled cry. She fell back onto the sheets, a heavy look of fatigue settling over her. "Come on, Leafpool, you have to push!" She let out a grunt, grimacing as she squeezed Squirrelflight and Featherpelt's fingers. "Push!"

"Feathertail," Leafpool choked out. "I'm not strong enough, Feathertail." The hairs on the back of Squirrelflight's neck stood on end as Featherpelt met her gaze. What was Leafpool saying?

 _Is she confusing Feathertail with Featherpelt?_  Squirrelflight thought wildly.  _She's probably delirious—she's exhausted._  Her thoughts were cut off when Leafpool threw her head to the side with another cry. A strange look crossed Cinderpelt's face and a thin cry of protest split through the tension. Leafpool shuddered and whimpered, tears streaking her face as she fought to catch her breath.

The blue-eyed doctor was at her side in seconds. "Leafpool, it's a boy. He's finally here." Squirrelflight's heart leapt at the sight of the last baby. His eyes were squeezed tight like his siblings, but they eased open under the stares of the people around him. Pale blue eyes gazed at his mother before a soft cooing noise left him and Cinderpelt nestled him in his mother's arms.

"Thank Starreign," Leafpool sobbed. "Thank Starreign." She pressed her nose against her son's, a fresh wave of tears trickling down her cheeks. Astertail and Featherpelt hovered close by, her other children swaddled in their arms. Squirrelflight watched as the baby soothed his mother and Leafpool's eyelids flutter with exhaustion.

"Stay with me, Leafpool. I need to check him over again." The warm, tender atmosphere froze almost immediately. Cinderpelt gently extracted the newborn from Leafpool's arms and studied him. "Astertail, Featherpelt—can you bring me the others?"

"What's happening?" Squirrelflight's hand tightened around her sister's. "Leafa, what's going on?" A hard look settled over Leafpool's features as she moved to sit up slightly.

"It's his eyes, isn't it?" Cinderpelt's head snapped in their direction. "It's alright. I'm just glad he's alive."

"What do you mean by that?" Squirrelflight asked. "Leafa, he's going to be disabled for life."

"As some of us are," Cinderpelt replied curtly. The redhead felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Most multiple births result in the death of the third or the ones that follow the second." She gazed at the child in her hands before setting him on Leafpool's chest. "It's very rare for mothers to give birth to more than two children at a time. The third is often the weakest of the bunch—there are even cases where they have been crushed in the womb by their siblings."

"Crushed…" Squirrelflight's blood chilled at the thought of it.

"Stay with me, Leafpool. We need to move you as soon as you birth the placentas," Cinderpelt said, moving to the base of the bed. "We can't risk the others discovering you here."

"What about the linens? The maids will wonder where they went."

"Then I'll just tell them that a friend of Astertail's brought his laboring wife to us," Cinderpelt replied. "Firestar is more than capable of replacing these linens. If he isn't willing, I'll use my own money to compensate for them." Leafpool grimaced and tensed for a few seconds.

"Have you thought of names for them yet?" Featherpelt asked softly. The brunette blinked blearily at her best friend for a few seconds before another tremor shook her body.

"The first one is Lionblaze," she gasped. "Hollyleaf for my daughter, and—" she arched slightly and collapsed with a twitch. "The last one is Jayfeather."

"They're beautiful," Astertail murmured.

"They are," Cinderpelt agreed, reappearing with a large bundle of bloodied linens in her hands. "Leafpool, how soon do you think you can walk?" Squirrelflight started at the doctor's question. The brunette had just given birth! How could she be expected to walk so quickly? "Don't give that look, Squirrelflight," the doctor warned. "The longer Leafpool stays in Zephyra the more likely it is that she'll be discovered."

"Give me a few minutes," Leafpool rasped. "I just need to gather my bearings."

"Take as long as you'd like," Astertail reassured her. "I have a carriage and the fastest horses Zephyra can offer."

"Well, some of them," Featherpelt snorted. "The fastest one is currently living in the alley behind my home." Squirrelflight nearly chuckled at the mixture of disbelief and horror in Astertail's eyes. He probably had a hard time believing that such a thoroughbred horse would be spending his days hidden in a cramped alleyway.

"Do you mind if I stay with you for the next few nights? I want to keep an eye on Leafpool to make sure there aren't any complications," Cinderpelt murmured.

"That is no problem," Featherpelt reassured her. "Leafpool needs all the help she can get."

"Where were you all this time?" Astertail asked, bringing the attention back to the brunette.

"Ancansura," she whispered. "I have a clinic." Squirrelflight smiled at the proud glint in Cinderpelt's eyes, but she couldn't fight down her curiosity any longer. Squeezing her sister's hand to gain her attention, the redhead leaned in.

"Leafa, who's the father?"

 

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

_He started when he realized he was standing in the middle of the Zephyra manor. He and Graystripe had just arrived at the Herobexy Manor after visiting the house of Riverside and mourning with their aristocrats. After the first few months of war, a significant number of Riverside aristocrats were pronounced dead—Crowfeather's own father included. It seemed the war was striking closer to home than he had initially expected, and Crowfeather knew it wouldn't be long before Ebenwing's inherited aristocrats demand that he or his mother join the war to take his father's former position._

_Tawnypelt, who had just returned from Squirrelflight's wedding rehearsal, ushered him and Graystripe into the guest rooms, insisting that they spend the night. After promising that he would come down for dinner after changing, Crowfeather felt a sudden wave of dizziness sweep over him and he crawled into his bed to ease the pain. He hadn't expected to fall asleep, but it seemed that his body had shut down the second he was settled in a comfortable position._

_Crowfeather frowned as he studied his surroundings. The manor was strangely empty although there was the occasional cook who popped in and out of the kitchen for a snack or two. The blue-eyed aristocrat wondered if he was remembering something from that blurred night eight months ago, but it was still too light outside for it to seem probable. Sighing, he headed up the stairs, wondering why exactly he was dreaming of Zephyra in the first place._

_A scream tore through the manor and Crowfeather froze, his hand going for the dagger at his waist. Drawing the blade, he turned in the direction of the scream and crept slowly down the spiral staircase, keeping a wary eye out for aggressors or intruders. The cooks didn't seem to notice at thing as he slipped by the kitchen and before long, he found himself standing on the back porch of the manor house. Where had the scream come from?_

_A fainter cry caught his attention and he headed towards it, eyeing the stables warily as he passed. The scream sounded human, but there was nobody in sight. Shaking his head, he continued in the general direction of the noise until he found himself before a small, cozy-looking cabin. A low moan met his ears as he stepped closer, and he frowned when his hand passed through the doorknob. He was pleased to realize that he could pass through the door, however, and he stepped through it bemusedly._

_He looked around the cabin curiously before following another low cry into the hallway of the cabin. The dagger in his hand lowered though, when he recognized the shadowy figures in the room. A brunet* and Featherpelt both carried small bundles in their arms and Squirrelflight sat on the other side of the bed, cradling a hand in her own. Cinderpelt knelt by the base of the bed, wrapping something that was out of Crowfeather's view._

_Stepping closer, he recoiled at the sight of bloodied towels and linens. Cinderpelt seemed unfazed, however, as she wiped the blood from her arms and hobbled over to Squirrelflight's side. The blue-eyed aristocrat murmured something in a low tone to Featherpelt, who nodded in response. The brunet looked at the woman on the bed and Squirrelflight squeezed her hand. Curiosity got the best of Crowfeather as he inched forward, bloodied towels forgotten as he tried to see what the bundles were and the face of the woman. His heart skipped at the sight of her amber eyes._

_"Leafpool?" The hairs on his arm rose as he stared at her. Although she looked significantly older than what he last remembered, he couldn't mistake her eyes for anyone else's. They glowed with a mixture of orange and gold, hypnotizing and smoldering. He couldn't forget them for the world._

_The bundle on her chest shifted and Crowfeather started at the face that poked out from underneath the blankets. "A baby…" Crowfeather's heart shuddered as he gazed at Leafpool. "You have children." He should've known she had a lover. It was impossible not to love someone as beautiful and compassionate as her. Just as he made a move to leave, he heard Squirrelflight speak up._

_"Leafa, who's the father?" A wave of uncertainty washed over Crowfeather. Did he really want to know? It almost felt as if he were betraying himself to know the identity of the man who possessed the woman he loved and her children. But he couldn't crush the curious voice in the back of his head and he turned just in time to see Leafpool glance at the bundle in her arms. There was a guilty expression on her face as she tightened her grip on the baby._

_A startled expression crossed Squirrelflight's face. "Oh great Starreign," she breathed. The shock quickly died away into anger and Crowfeather took a step back at the fire in the redhead's eyes. "I can't believe him," she seethed. "How could he?"_

_"It's not his fault," Leafpool grit out._

_"Squirrelflight, keep your voice low," Cinderpelt said. Her eyes were icy as they raked over the redhead. "Do_ not _disturb the children." The Zephyra aristocrat seemed taken aback at first, but simmered down in to a frustrated fidget._

_A flicker of pain passed through Leafpool's eyes as she turned her head away. "He doesn't know," she whispered._

_"He doesn't know?" Again, Squirrelflight was shushed by Cinderpelt. "What do you mean he doesn't know?"_

_"He was drunk," the brunette defended. "I couldn't fight him off." The hairs on Crowfeather's arms rose in alarm. Leafpool had been raped? He glared at the swaddled babies._ Bastard children _, he thought._

 _"But you loved him." An accusing expression crossed Squirrelflight's face. "You_ still _love him!"_

_"Calm down!" Cinderpelt shot the redhead a hard look. "The last thing Leafpool needs is stress right now," the doctor said. "She's just given birth, she's exhausted, and she still has three hungry children to feed." She turned to the brunet. "Astertail, I need you to take us to Featherpelt's home immediately. If Leafpool has enough energy to fight with Squirrelflight, then she definitely is ready to move." She gripped the brunette's hand and took the bundle from her arms. "Squirrelflight, help your sister. This is the most she's ever asked of you and you have no reason to turn her down."_

_Crowfeather watched as they shuffled past him, rushing to the stables. Poking his head out of the cabin, he watched as Astertail fumbled with the carriages and everyone else clambered in—each juggling a baby while Cinderpelt checked their surroundings. Once she entered the coach and shut the door behind her, Astertail flicked the reigns, urging the horses to go as gently as possible. It only took a matter of seconds before the carriage disappeared into the distance._

_"I can't believe it," Crowfeather muttered. "How doesn't he know that his lover has his children?"_ He was drunk _, the blue-eyed aristocrat added, but it only added to his confusion. He had never heard of drunks who could forget an entire night of drinking. Every alcoholic he knew could recount their stories regardless of how hazy and inaccurate they were._

_"Perhaps he locked it away," a voice mused from behind him. "After all, that's what all of us do after a traumatizing event." Crowfeather started when his surroundings faded away into darkness. "It's a wonder how she didn't lock it away too." The blue-eyed aristocrat shot back, barely swallowing a startled cry at the sight of a gruesome face._

_The man had swollen and watery eyes. His scleras were bloodshot and his irises were an eggshell white. There were sparse patches of hair littered on his scalp, and his skin sagged with the weight of the world and the secrets he carried. Never in his life had Crowfeather ever seen a man with such frightful features._

_"It's hardly polite to stare, Crowfeather."_

_"Who are you?" The words flew out of his mouth before he could rein them. The man chuckled._

_"I am Rock," he replied, tilting his head from side to side. "The all-seeing yet the unseeing." His eyelids flickered forward, but they only brushed the edges of his eyes. A stab of sympathy pierced Crowfeather's heart at the sight. His eyes were too swollen to close. "There is a great destiny that awaits you, Crowfeather." Rock stepped closer and the blue-eyed aristocrat felt the man's sour breath fan over his cheek. "Keep the past close to your heart, but linger and it will devour you."_

_When the man's figure began to fade, Crowfeather took a step forward. "Wait! What do you mean?"_

_"Ask me again in the darkness of your dreams," Rock replied. "Perhaps I will hear you—perhaps I will not." His swollen eyes gazed at the aristocrat. "Have faith, and I will come." Before Crowfeather could call out to him, the dream faded and the darkness underfoot swallowed them whole._

 

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

The next few days progressed without too much conflict. Cinderpelt visited frequently to bring herbs that increased milk production and Starflower fussed over Leafpool while Featherpelt tended to the shop with Whiteear. The shopkeeper had yet to learn that the brunette was staying with his apprentice, but Leafpool know it wouldn't take long before Cinderpelt would confide in him.

So she waited at home with Starflower as they tended to their children. Leafpool played with Patchwing and Violetheart while Starflower cooed at the brunette's newborns. Featherpelt would bring in snippets of news whenever he came home, and Leafpool was quickly updated on the war situation the Empire was currently involved in. While the aristocratic and half-trained civilian-armies were holding up on their own, the warring countries would be held at a stalemate until one side ran out of soldiers or reinforcements from other nations would be supplied. The war was dragging on much longer than the general populous had expected, and it was making many higher-up aristocrats uncomfortable.

Now that her hands were fairly free, Leafpool indulged in reading and studying the texts that Cinderpelt brought by for entertainment. She painted portraits of Featherpelt's family—or at least attempted to, with his two restless children—and learned new recipes from Starflower. Squirrelflight visited whenever she could tear herself away from home and brought news on their mother and Graystripe's situation at war. All the while, Featherpelt and the others helped prepare Leafpool for her return trip to Ancansura.

Two months passed, and Leafpool found herself insisting that she leave. She had sent a letter to Rennae to inform her of her return and the dark-haired Ancansuran reassured the brunette that an escort would be waiting for her at the border in a week. Cinderpelt tried to convince Leafpool to stay until the babies were old enough to travel without complications, but the brunette insisted on leaving as soon as possible. She couldn't risk having anyone discover her presence even though she had yet to take a step outside of Featherpelt's home and steered clear of windows during her entire stay.

When Squirrelflight brought up her concerns regarding Leafpool's duties as a doctor in Bluepeak, the brunette brushed them aside, stating that she could easily pay a villager to help care for her children. Since her clinic was technically her home, there would be no complications if the babysitter attended to her children in the same building.

"It's going to be lonely without you here," Starflower said during Leafpool's last few days. "Everyone will miss you." Patchwing had balked at the mention of the brunette's departure and sulked through dinner, going as far as to refuse dessert as he pointedly avoided eye contact. Leafpool felt a stab of sympathy for the child, but there was little she could do to change it. "Featherpelt's been attending more galas than ever—and though I'm happy for him, I miss the company." She squeezed Leafpool's hands as she said this, a wistful glimmer in her blue eyes.

It broke Leafpool's heart to go when Squirrelflight arrived late in the afternoon on her last day. Patchwing clung onto his father's trousers, sniffling as he rubbed at his runny nose. Violetheart, who was still too young to properly comprehend the situation, cried mainly because her brother had tears leaking out from the corners of his eyes. Starflower had to carry the child upstairs and Leafpool had to step inside to give the blonde one last hug. Featherpelt kissed the brunette on both cheeks and waved goodbye as she pulled away. Swallowing her tears, Leafpool soldiered on, checking the pouches on her chest and her back to make sure her babies were comfortable. Ahead, Squirrelflight carried Lionblaze, his head resting against her spine.

The two sisters stopped frequently to relieve the infants and allow their horses to rest. It took them four days to reach the border and Leafpool felt her control slip as they approached the guards. She pressed into her sister, crying as they clung to each other. Squirrelflight pressed a tender kiss to Leafpool's temple before seeing her off, watching broken-heartedly from the Emperian side of the border as Leafpool passed through the guards. With Jayfeather resting on her chest, Hollyleaf nestled on her back, and Lionblaze cradled in her arms, Leafpool rode into the border town of Mayline to find Rennae waiting for her at the local inn.

 

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

Crowfeather shifted in his seat, a disgusted grimace tugging at his features. After his father's death, the inherited aristocrats of Ebenwing insisted that another heritage aristocrat take his place. Although he was the current head of their house and the only heritage aristocrat of Ebenwing descent, the inherited aristocrats threatened to withdraw their services in the army if he didn't join the warfront. Ashfoot had tried to volunteer herself in his place, but the inherited aristocrats stood firm. Either Crowfeather left for war or no Ebenwing aristocrat would participate against Mirviran.

 _They rather lose their aristocratic status than give their life for their country_ , Crowfeather thought distastefully. He couldn't believe how selfish his kinsmen were, but he accepted their conditions regardless and joined the war. If he hadn't, the Empire would lose a number of talented soldiers and Crowfeather couldn't bring himself to value his life over his country.

He and the incoming reinforcements were required to report for duty at Rushtail's mansion as soon as they received news of their enlistment. As he studied the room, a disappointed gloom settled over him. His fellow aristocrats were young—almost as young as he was and very few of them looked to be over the age of twenty. He couldn't comprehend how the older generation was reluctant to join the war against Mirviran, especially after witnessing the extravagant parties they held each year to show their patriotism.

A man dressed in gold and green stepped into the room and whatever chatter was going on ceased immediately. Crowfeather straightened in his seat—the man was dressed in the colors of the Gaian King. The messenger spoke to a few older aristocrats in a low voice and Crowfeather strained his ears to catch what the man was saying. Fortunately for him, one of the older aristocrats repeated the news quite loudly.

"Willowpelt is dead?" Crowfeather felt the temperature drop as each aristocrat absorbed the news.

"Yes," the messenger affirmed. "Therefore, we require all of you—if you are heritage aristocrats—to relocate yourselves in the City of Evermore in order to be tested for the mark of the next king." He nodded to the crowd before bowing stiffly at the waist. "Please prepare for a two-to-three day stay at the Capital." With that, he exited the room.

Immediately, the air filled with chatter. Crowfeather saw a mixture of excitement, anguish, and anxiety on each aristocrat's face as they whispered hurriedly to each other. Inwardly shaking his head at them, he stepped out of the room, catching a few curious murmurs as they clung to his boots. He could feel their eyes following him as he left, and he carefully slipped a warning look over his shoulder.

"My horse—a steel gray mare," Crowfeather said as a stableman rushed up to him. She was quickly led to him and he rested a hand on the white blaze on her head. Huffing fondly at him, she stood still as he settled in her saddle and nudged her gently with his heels. A smile tugged at his lips when she started heading in the direction of Ebenwing, but he tugged her back onto the road to Zephyra. "We don't live there anymore, Liadan."

Patting the mare, he eased her into a gallop and they rode through the countryside, stopping every once in a while to ease the strain on her legs or for water. It took about two hours before they arrived at Zephyra, and the brunet stableman he had seen in his dream greeted him by the stables. Passing Liadan's reigns to the peasant, Crowfeather headed into the manor house in search of Firestar and the others.

He found them in the den, resting by the fire and curled up against the sofa cushions. Firestar rested on his back, scratching his red hounds behind the ear while Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw dozed on the loveseat. "You're back," Squirrelflight murmured, lifting her head sleepily. A frown crossed her face. "I thought you were called to action."

"I was," Crowfeather said, crossing the room. "But something came up."

"Something important enough to stop sending people to the warfront?" Firestar sat up, his hounds retreating with a whimper of protest. Brambleclaw, who had stirred at Crowfeather's entry, rubbed at his eyes and straightened up.

"Willowpelt is dead," the blue-eyed aristocrat said. "They're calling all heritage aristocrats to the Capital for inspections." He tugged off his heavy winter gloves and threw them on the sofa. "They're withdrawing aristocrats from the warfront as soon as possible, but there's at least a day's wait before they'll actually arrive."

"Are we required to stay in Evermore while they're testing?" Brambleclaw glanced uncertainly at Squirrelflight, who paled at the news. Crowfeather felt a stab of sympathy for the redhead—the simple lifestyle she had hoped for would be ruined if her fiancé was chosen to be king. She had already confided in the Ebenwing aristocrat about her fears.

"The attendant told us to expect a two-to-three day wait," he said, tugging off his cloak. "I'd bring some money as well—I assume they'll try to house us, but there may not be enough space for everyone in the Gaian king's mansion."

Squirrelflight rose from her seat and stalked out of the den, her shoulder stiff as she passed through the doorway. Brambleclaw followed her after a quick glance in Firestar's direction and Crowfeather could feel a tension settling over the house.

There was too much to lose with if any of them were to become the next Gain King. Firestar would have to give up his position as head of Zephyra and another aristocratic house would have to be disbanded, given that Crowfeather died at war. Brambleclaw would lose the simple life Squirrelflight envisioned and the house of Ebenwing would collapse if Crowfeather were chosen. Either way, there were heavy consequences for each of them if the mark of the king was found on them.

 

* * *

The examination process was going much faster than he had initially expected. Within two days, the majority of aristocrats had already been examined and only a few remained to be screened. Crowfeather was led into a fairly sterile room where he was required to bare his chest for the examination.

The device placed on the table before him was enormous—it came up to his waist and was about the width of a small table. It looked strangely like the microscopes that Barkface worked with whenever he conducted research and worked with patients. Instead of the clear lenses that he saw on microscopes, there were cloudy and oval-shaped disks fastened in the metal clamps. The space between each disk was empty and there was at least an inch between each lens. The larger, smoother stones seemed to be the size of two fingers put together while the opposite contained clearer, polished disks the size of his thumb. There were two disks sitting in between the outermost two—one was a cloudy red while the other was a grayish blue.

He flinched when a beam of light shot through the four lenses and the smaller end of the device was pointed to his heart. There was no light source other than the lights that decorated the room, and even then, there was no clear explanation for where the beam was coming from. Crowfeather felt the skin over his heart burn and he staggered out of the chair with a gasp. Glancing down at his chest, he stiffened at the sight of a light blue marking that decorated his torso. A tribal circle decorated his left breast and the tattoo fanned out onto his side. Craning his neck, he caught sight of two flight feathers circling the tribal circle, their ends pointed toward each other.

Hands were on him immediately, rushing him back into the chair. Crowfeather struggled against them before realizing the light had been switched off and the burning sensation and died down into a warm pulse. The tattoo turned black against his skin and Crowfeather looked up to see several attendants crouched before him. Each seemed to be recording the tattoo, sketching it dutifully onto crisp sheets of parchment. The marking began to fade into his skin and the attendants pulled back, seemingly satisfied with their drawings.

"Crowfeather the Third!" Rushtail and Larkwing entered the room, their eyes dusting over the fading tattoo. "I am pleased to see you are our next Gaian leader," Rushtail said to him before turning to the attendants. "Make the announcement immediately! Arrange for his items to be moved to his new chambers and prepare for the first ceremony!"

"Congratulations," Larkwing murmured. "You will be acquainted with your new board of advisors as soon as the first ceremony is completed." A small smile decorated his lips when Crowfeather glanced at his chest again. "The tattoo only appears in the light of the  _Optivus_  device. It will remain on your skin for two minutes before returning to your heart." He nodded towards the bustling crowd of attendants as they shuffled around the room with the sketches of the tattoo. "It's necessary for us to record each tattoo to guarantee the legitimacy of each Gaian king. Thankfully, there is no fear of forgery due to the tattoo's variability from king to king."

" _Optivus_ operates only when there is the need to find a third leader," Rushtail said, turning his attention back to Crowfeather. "Of course, only a small portion of the country knows of this, so it's quite simple to deter impersonators and pretenders." He surveyed the room with a satisfied glint in his eye. "Your ceremony should begin within a few minutes. We will be expecting you tomorrow morning to discuss your duties."

"Ceremony?" Crowfeather spluttered.

"All will come in time," Rushtail reassured him as various attendants pulled him away. "Starreign walks with you, Crowfeather the Third." The blue-eyed man stared after the two leaders long after he was dragged into a large ceremonial room. As the attendants handed him robes to change into and left him for privacy, Rock's words echoed repeatedly through his head. _There is a great destiny that awaits you, Crowfeather._

 

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

"Did you hear?" Silvermist asked as she entered the clinic. "The Empire's Gaian king just recently passed."

"He passed away?" Leafpool frowned as she took the woman's armful of herbs. A wave of fear crashed over her at the thought of natural disasters tearing her country apart, but she hid her discomfort behind a mask of curiosity. "Did they find a new leader?"

"About three days ago," Silvermist replied, nodding to a few patients as she checked on their wounds. The silver-haired woman had recently offered her time to help Leafpool and she worked as the brunette's assistant around the clinic. She also worked as a part-time nanny—checking up on Leafpool's children every few hours or so. "He's pretty young from what I heard," she said as she returned to the counter. "Nineteen, I think."

"Nineteen?" The brunette snorted as she sorted the herbs. She could hardly believe a nineteen-year-old was in charge of running a vital branch of the government. Most aristocrats didn't even take position of head of their houses until they were at least thirty. Her father had been an exception solely because he founded the house he belonged to.

"Yeah. Starreign's choosing them young, I guess." Silvermist, although not a particularly religious person, grew up with Starreign's teachings. She was one of the few villagers who descended from Emperian immigrants. "I think his name is Crow-something."

Leafpool froze and stared at the green-eyed woman. "Crow?" she echoed. It was a rather uncommon suffix to a name, and she only knew one person whose name started with Crow. Her heart beat wildly at the thought of the Ebenwing aristocrat becoming the Gaian king. "Crow as in Crowfeather?"

"That's it!" Silvermist snapped her fingers at the name. "That's the new Gaian king—Crowfeather the Third!" The smile on her face faltered when she saw the wild look in Leafpool's eye. "Leafpool? Are you alright?"

"I'm sorry, can you take care of the patients?" The brunette's limbs felt numb as she climbed up the stairs. "I need a minute alone."

"Sure, I guess." There was a murmur of uncertainty and concern in the silver-haired villager's voice, but Leafpool was too overwhelmed to care. She stumbled onto the second floor, scouring the room before dropping to her knees before her children.

A sob escaped her as she curled up over their cradle, her brown hair draping over them like a curtain. When the tremors eased and her whimpers faded into hiccups, Leafpool wiped her eyes and sat back onto her calves. "How can I ever tell him?" she whispered. Tears blurred her vision as she gazed at her children. "How can I ever tell you that these are your children?" It was bad enough that she had run away before realizing she was pregnant. Now he was one of the most powerful people in the country, and her attempts to bring attention to their children may be passed on as a desperate mother who only wants wealth and power. The eyes of society would not be forgiving to a woman who claims to have relations with a high-ranking official.

A soft cooing noise caught her attention and she looked up to see pale blue eyes gazing at her with a clouded look of compassion, understanding, and love. Her heart throbbed in her chest as he shifted in his bed and blinked at her. His eyes were only a few shades lighter than his father's. Leafpool brought her blind son to her chest and cradled him against her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, pressing their foreheads together. "You're all I have left of him."

Both Hollyleaf and Lionblaze seemed to be stirred by her unease and the room began to fill with the garbled coos of infants. Leafpool sniffled and stroked Hollyleaf's black hair, marveling at its softness.  _Your hair is darker than your father's_ , she thought. It would be easy to disguise who sired Lionblaze and Hollyleaf. After all, her daughter's eyes were inherited from Firestar and Lionblaze's amber eyes mirrored Leafpool's own. His golden brown hair was only shades lighter than her own and she could see the curve of her nose reflected in his. Hollyleaf's black hair would forever be a mystery to her, but Leafpool guessed that it may have come from Deadfoot's genetics. Jayfeather, however, would be the most difficult to explain.

No one on either her father's side or mother's side of the family had blue eyes. Leafpool's grandmother, Brindleface, had gray hair, but it seemed unlikely that her genes had skipped two generations to resurface in Jayfeather. Both his hair and eyes were a few shades lighter than Crowfeather's, and the resemblance between the two was striking. Leafpool could almost imagine that Jayfeather was Crowfeather as an infant, bleary-eyed and quiet.

A small piece of her wondered if it was Starreign's way of punishing her. Spottedleaf's ominous declaration that the brunette was never meant to fall in love seemed to becoming a reality for her. She knew that every time she looked at Jayfeather, she would be reminded for the agonizing, unrequited love she harbored for Crowfeather. But she loved her son nonetheless, and the possessiveness she felt towards him both startled and pleased her. She would defend these children with her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brunet* and Featherpelt both carried small bundles in their arms - At this point in time, Crowfeather has yet to be formally introduced to Astertail. So, he doesn't actually know who Astertail is and I felt it was only right to have him describe Astertail as opposed to say "Oh hey, there's a person I never met—Astertail!"


	16. Guide #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who kudoed/left a comment!
> 
> I'm so sorry for the delay! I was caught with work and I wanted to put out this guide along with chapter 13 (which will be published almost immediately after this one). I hope this guide helps you get a sense of how the Empire and our cast looks like at this point!

**THE GAIAN KING'S HEADQUARTERS**

Advisors (and the social class they represent): Lilystorm (lower class), Ashtail (upper class), Hawkshade (lower middle), Russetcloud (tradesmen/merchants), Rowanheart (higher middle), Lionpelt (guards and defenders), and Torrentpelt (medical community and Starreign)

Maids: Compass (foreigner), Featherfall, and Winterwing

Butlers – Duskfall and Hedgefang

**HOUSE DIVISIONS & HEADS OF THE HOUSES**

Members of the Council of International Affairs: Herobexy (Dustpelt), Zephyra (Firestar), Terrum (Nightstar), and Gustil (Honeyleaf)

Members of the Council of Domestic Affairs: Riverside (Crookedstar), Necrasung (Rowanclaw), Zecrorise (Russetfur), and Yestermorn (Reedfeather)

Members of the Council of Gaian Affairs: Ebenwing (Deadfoot), Larixmin (Brackenfur), Shadowrim (Blackstar), Wilstera (Leafstar)

**THE VILLAGE OF BLUEPEAK**

Villagers (that Leafpool are close to): Blackfrost, and Silvermist (Both of them come from families that immigrated from the Empire, hence their names)

Other Animals: Varnish the Second (His father, Varnish the First, was the horse that took Firestar and Leafpool to Herobexy to bring Sandstorm and Squirrelflight home. Varnish the First died before he met his son, but Varnish the Second is merely referred to as "Varnish" because it's easier to say that than "Varnish the Second")

**COUNTRIES**

The Empire – Home of various warrior cats that were reborn as humans as well as other humans. Border to border trip takes approximately three days in total.

Ancansura – Current residence of Leafpool. A wealthy port nation around half the size of the Empire. Shares the same currency and national language as the Empire.

Mirviran – Nation ruled by a military dictator. Recently revolutionized (around a year ago) and currently in a warring state with the Empire. Reasons for attacking the sacred nation are currently unknown, but current motives include territorial, political, and economic gains.

**CURRENCY OF THE EMPIRE AND ANCANSURA**

Terra(s) – silver coins with a tree engraved onto them. The highest worth of coins available (similar to our 100 dollar bills, but are not as rare as 500/1000 dollar bills). Equivalent to 10 rebas.

Reba(s) – silver coins with a fox engraved onto them. Equivalent to 10 vennas.

Venna(s) – silver coins with a badger engraved onto them. Equivalent to 10 emras.

Emra(s) – silver coins with a wildflower engraved onto them. Equivalent to 10 boyas.

Boya(s) – silver coins with a seashell engraved onto them. Lowest worth of coins available (similar to our dollar bills—smallest form of dollar bills).

**AGES AND HOUSE ORIGINS WHEN LEAFPOOL AND SQUIRRELFLIGHT ARE 18**

Crowfeather (formerly Ebenwing) – 19

Brambleclaw (Zephyra, formerly Herobexy) – 20

Tawnypelt (Herobexy) – 20

Firestar (Zephyra) – 38

Sandstorm (Zephyra, formerly Herobexy) – 39

Graystripe (Herobexy, though residing in Zephyra) – 39

Featherpelt (Peasant) – 24

Starflower (Peasant) – 23

Stormfur (Zephyra, formerly Riverside) – 22

Cinderpelt (Larixmin, though residing in Zephyra) – 32

Astertail (Peasant working for Zephyra) – 30

Patchwing (Peasant) – 2

Violetheart (Peasant) – Nearly 1 years old

Blackfrost (Villager) – 16

Silvermist (Villager) – 28

Rennae (Merchant's daughter) – 20

Lilystorm (Advisor) – 27

Ashtail (Advisor) – 61

Hawkshade (Advisor) – 40

Russetcloud (Advisor) – 36

Rowanheart (Advisor) – 26

Lionpelt (Advisor) – 43

Torrentpelt (Advisor) – 20

Midnight (Psychic/prophet) – 72

Rushtail (International Leader, Peasant) – 57

Larkwing (Domestic Leader, Peasant) – 38

 **LIST OF HERITAGE ARISTOCRATS**  (Can only be male)

Crowfeather, Brambleclaw, Firestar, Crookedstar, Dustpelt, Rowanclaw, Jayfeather, Lionblaze, Onestar, Brackenfur, Nightstar, Reedfeather

**LIST OF INHERITED ARISTOCRATS**

Graystripe, Stormfur, Ashfur

**LIST OF MEDIATORS (Starreign Doctors who have access to the memories of their past life. NOT to be confused with the "mediators" of the medical community, who are essentially board/council members)**

Spottedleaf, Yellowfang, Cinderpelt, Littlecloud, Mudfur


	17. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Crowfeather attempts to come to terms with his new position as the Gaian King, Midnight appears at Evermore Palace with a haunting fortune telling. Conflict sparks in a small mountain tribe, and Leafpool learns to make the most of her time with her children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who kudoed/left a comment!

Third Person – Leafpool

_Her tail-tip twitched as Bluestar, Feathertail, and Yellowfang approached. The blue she-cat seemed unsurprised at the firm expression on Leafpool's face, but the uneasy look on the silver tabby's face told the brown she-cat all she needed to know. They had deliberately kept the secret from her. "When were you planning to tell me?" she asked coolly._

" _What matters now is that you know," Yellowfang rasped. She ignored the pointed glare Leafpool shot in her direction. "There wasn't much we could do about it. There are other spirits who decide on these things and two votes aren't going to change very many minds." Running a tongue up her forearm, the gray medicine cat wiped at her ears. "The spirits had chosen years before Crowfeather had even been born."_

" _That seems a bit ambitious, doesn't it?" Leafpool growled, ears flattening._

" _The spirits determine the next leader based on experience," Feathertail murmured._

" _Experience? You still could've argued against it." Her voice cracked and Leafpool felt her resolve waver as she lashed out at the silver tabby. Feathertail recoiled, a pained expression in her eyes. "I thought you understood what I was going through!"_

" _Starreign chooses the best path for_ everyone _," Bluestar said, the fur on her back bristling. "There can be no room for selfish wishes."_

" _I'm not being selfish," Leafpool snapped. "I'm thinking about the three children who will never get the chance to meet their father!"_

" _And I'm thinking of the entire_ country _that is in dire need of a Gaian king!" The blue she-cat bared her teeth at Leafpool. "I understand this is hard for you, Leafpool, but there is no other way around this! Starreign has chosen who it believes is the best leader and there can be no room for argument!" Bluestar's hackles dropped and suddenly she looked as if she had aged significantly over the last few minutes. "I would've changed it if I could," she whispered. "But I can't. No one can."_

" _Starreign doesn't only make one selection, Leafpool," Feathertail whispered. "Starreign makes many—many selections. The stories only tell you there is only one, but that's far from the truth. There are many people who are chosen to be king. But there are tragedies that even Starreign can't prevent." A bitter gleam flashed through her blue eyes. "We don't control the world, Leafpool. We only oversee it."_

" _Crowfeather was the most appealing out of the chosen candidates," Yellowfang said. "Hence it was decided that he was best for the position of leadership."_

" _We sympathize with your children, but only time will tell what will happen to them." Bluestar gazed at Leafpool, an unreadable look in her eyes. "But please know that they are destined to be yours._ Find new love in the ashes of the old. Only then will the true story be told _."_

_Leafpool's heart skipped at the old nursery rhyme. It had been years since she had last heard it. Not since Spottedleaf stepped into her life. "Have faith," Feathertail murmured. "Starreign watches over you still." Her blue eyes shimmered as the dream faded and the world around Leafpool plummeted into darkness. "All will come in time."_

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

His meeting with his advisors had gone in a blur. There were seven of them in total, each highly opinionated and representative of a different class of citizen. Lilystorm, the only female on the advisory board, voiced the concerns of the lower class citizens. Ashtail tended to the upper classes and Hawkshade saw to the lower middle. Russetcloud watched over the tradesmen and Rowanheart represented the higher middle class. Lionpelt oversaw the guards and defenders of the Empire while Torrentpelt was involved with the medical community and the main branch of Starreign.

After being briefed on their fields of expertise, Crowfeather was pulled aside by Rowanheart, who insisted on giving him a grand tour around the palace grounds. Large, extensive gardens decorated the back, filled with "every single known and documented plant in the Empire," as Rowanheart had proudly put it. Crowfeather had drowned out the redhead's excited chatter sometime during the tour, but he took time to enjoy the elaborate marble fountain positioned in the center of the four main gardens. A beautiful and well-crafted statue of the first Gaian leader stood atop of the fountain, framed by coiled fern fronds and a woven bramble thicket.

The red-haired advisor led Crowfeather to the ceremonial hall, where he'd be expected to perform various rituals and connect with Starreign. Rowanheart promised that there would be experienced attendants who would guide him through the first process, so there wouldn't be too many complications in his first week of ritual bathing and ceremonies. He was then led to the medical wing, which in reality was a large building dedicated to help cure and treat diseased citizens. A fair portion of the taxes funded doctors who tended to those who were unable to afford treatment.

After all of the excitement was over and the tour concluded after the pair explored all the various hallways and main rooms of the palace, Crowfeather was escorted to his new chambers. Willowpelt's former rooms had been cleared as soon as the former Gaian king was moved to the medical building for extensive observation and care under his hired team of doctors. According to Rowanheart, the chambers had been empty for months after the doctors declared Willowpelt unfit to return to his duties and informed the advisory board that the Gaian king would not survive his sickness.

His chambers consisted of a sitting room, his bedroom, a bathroom, and study with an empty personal library attached. He was encouraged to redecorate as he pleased and send his requests to the maids and other staff in order to have his needs seen to. When Crowfeather ran a curious finger along an empty bookshelf, Rowanheart quickly informed him that there was a library upstairs and that he was allowed to store his favorites in his personal shelves, or at least enjoy books in the privacy of his own study. Crowfeather's room was located on the second floor, straight down the hall from where his advisors and other guest rooms resided.

The third floor consisted of a large observatory and an enormous library. Rowanheart had under-exaggerated when he mentioned it—it was nearly the size of Ebenwing's ballroom, which could hold a maximum capacity of three hundred. The redhead promised that the librarians would help him find books of interest to him, but had dragged him off to explore the first floor as opposed to the tightly-packed bookshelves of the library.

The ground floor had a large ballroom, dining area, kitchen, and servants' quarters. His office was located by the main doors so he could attend to whoever requested a meeting with him. There was meeting room upstairs for him to congregate with his advisors, and Rowanheart informed him that it looked nearly identical to his office—only with more chairs. The ballroom was at least twice the size of Ebenwing's and the dining area looked as if it were fit to feed the entire City of Evermore. Although Rowanheart didn't spare him a chance to examine the kitchen, Crowfeather was convinced that it had to be enormous to provide food to all those who would eat in the Gaian king's dining hall. The stables were located throughout the property—a safe distance from each of the gardens—but the main ones were settled near the back of the palace. According to Rowanheart, there were five in total, each full of some of the Empire's best horses.

When the two men returned to the second floor, Rowanheart had the liberty to show Crowfeather a few rooms whose purpose only existed for some of the earliest Gaian kings. The blue-eyed king wrinkled his nose at the sight of what formerly were concubine rooms and the first wife's chambers, but the redheaded advisor assured him that they were no longer in use. "That is, unless you want to have a few concubines hanging around," Rowanheart joked, his blue eyes glittering with amusement. After the final rounds were made, Crowfeather was brought back to his own chambers, where he proceeded to explore his rooms in more detail.

The sitting room was full of plush sofas and chairs, with a splash of color here and there from marvelous paintings of landscapes and the sky. Crowfeather gazed at the walls, a small piece of him dreaming of pinning Leafpool's sketches to the off-white paint. He could almost imagine her before him, a paint stripe smeared across her nose and cheek as she tried to pull him away from the walls. He could see himself laughing at the bright flush on her face as he pasted some of her drawings onto the paint, ignoring her cries of protest and her flustered expression as he wrapped her in his arms and reassured her of their beauty.

Oh how he could dream, he thought as a thick, navy-blue curtain slipped from his fingertips. He walked into his study, appreciating the beautiful chestnut desk and the mahogany shelves against the beige paint. He could take up half of the shelf with his books and documents, he decided, studying the personal library. Leafpool could fill the remaining space with her sketchbooks and her romance novels or whatever else she read—

Ah, he was dreaming again. Shaking his head slowly, he entered the bathroom and kicked off his shoes, toeing off his socks in the process. Barefoot, he wiggled his way across a fuzzy mat, his discarded clothing in hand. Impressed by the beauty of the tiles and the overall cleanliness of the place, Crowfeather headed into his bedroom and shut the bathroom door behind him. Carpet tickled his feet as he set his shoes by the bed and proceeded to strip himself of his clothes. He was sweaty and tired, but he could wait until tomorrow to bathe. After all, there was no one here to complain about his body odor—especially in his own bedroom, right?

He let out a soft moan of satisfaction at the softness of the silk blankets as he slipped under the covers. Although his body relaxed against the high-quality fabrics, his mind buzzed, too cluttered with noise and thoughts to let him sleep. Although the Empire was technically to have twelve houses, there would be some time before the twelfth house would rise to take Ebenwing's place. Zephyra had yet to adopt more families into its bloodline before the last house could come into existence.

As his eyes slid shut, Crowfeather's thoughts turned to Squirrelflight. His last meeting with the redhead was tense and uncomfortable, and he could've sworn he felt an air of hostility around her. He had tried to tell her about the dream he had of Leafpool and her three newborns, but the second that Squirrelflight heard her sister's name, she had left in a flurry. Even Brambleclaw said that the redhead was acting weird—she left in the mornings and didn't return until around dinnertime. He had assumed his fiancée was just having pre-marital nerves, but Crowfeather suspected there was something else going on.

His mind tittered at him before pulling his focus on the Mirviran-Emperian War. How much more fighting was expected of them? They had been in the war for nearly a year now, with casualties on both sides. The home front was starting to feel the strain of the war—many young men had volunteered to join the army while few women were willing to follow them. The work force was undoubtedly weakened by the reduction of men, but there seemed to be a stirring within the female community as more women took the place of enlisted workers. Although the Empire treated civilians of both sexes equally, it was still a patriarchal society with ideas that tended to benefit men a little more than they did women.

" _The war is far from over." Crowfeather nearly stumbled over himself in surprise at the sound of Rock's voice—when had he fallen asleep? "Crowfeather the Third, although it is the task of Rushtail the Second to care for international affairs, you must participate alongside him in this war. He cannot win this alone." The owner of the voice shuffled out of the darkness, his glazed eyes watery and bloodshot._

" _How much longer will we be at war?"_

" _Until the lost one returns and the one for the end," Rock replied. He paid no attention to the exasperated glare Crowfeather gave him. "The woman named Midnight will be outside your palace doors at noon tomorrow." He cocked his head to the side. "Invite her inside. She will perform a reading for you."_

" _I believe in Starreign, not readings," Crowfeather grumbled._

" _Starreign has sent her to you for the exact purpose of reading," the elderly man shot back. "Midnight is not capable of directly communicating with Starreign, but they share their visions and prophecies with her. She will assist you in the days to come." Rock paused and lifted his head, his nostrils twitching slightly. "The spirits of Starreign have been skittish of late," he whispered. "The Dark Forest is rising again." His unseeing eyes locked onto Crowfeather. "Remember the darkness that threatened your past life. Remember the light that saved you from it. Remember the forest," he hissed._

" _The Dark Forest?" The blue-eyed king echoed._

" _Yes, the Dark Forest." Rock shifted, his eyebrows furrowing. "Firestar had returned light to the forest. But this time, Destiny has taken pity on him and she's given him a life of luxury to reward him for his service and bravery. However, she has placed what had once been his burden onto you, Crowfeather the Third. You shall be the next to bring light to our world."_

" _I'm far from the leader Firestar is," Crowfeather hissed._

" _Yes, yes you are." Rock stared at him, his eyelids flickering over the sides of his eyes. "You are far greater than him here while he is far greater than you in the forest." He paused, an uncertain air hanging around him. "Rest now, Crowfeather the Third. You will need your energy for the obstacles ahead."_

* * *

"There's a woman here to see you," an attendant said, poking his head into the office. Crowfeather's thoughts immediately turned to his dream with Rock and the woman named Midnight. Should he trust her judgment? His heart clenched. Should he trust Rock?

It was worth a shot. "Let her in." He laced his hands together and glanced uneasily at his door. His stomach twisted at the thought of gaining insight on the future—there were so many burdens and responsibilities to carry afterwards. His duties grew heavier and heavier with each post that he took up.

"Want me to watch in the rafters?" Rowanheart asked, nodding upwards. Crowfeather glanced at him gratefully and relaxed when the redhead squeezed his shoulder. The advisor slipped through a disguised door and disappeared from sight, the almost-silent footsteps giving away his presence. There was always someone waiting in the rafters whenever Crowfeather was in his office, since it was long decided that having guards at the door would intimidate any incoming visitors. While it would be impossible to suppress any possible attacks with a lack of door guards, he could trust the men in the rafters to use their ranged weapons to immobilize or pin any aggressors.

A soft knock informed him that his visitor had arrived and Crowfeather immediately stood up to welcome her. The woman pinned him immediately with her jet-black eyes as she stepped into the office. Although her shoulders were lax and her movement was fluid, there was an air of stiffness around her. "Crowfeather the Third," she murmured, bowing. "I am Midnight. Starreign has entrusted me with a message for you."

"Please, be seated." The blue-eyed king settled down in his seat as the woman slid into the chair across from him. She pulled a stack of tarot cards from her pocket and began to shuffle them, her gaze lowered as she worked. When she was satisfied, she lifted her head and spread the cards before him in a line. Drawing back, her obsidian eyes studied Crowfeather thoughtfully.

"Please choose a card," Midnight said. He immediately reached for a card towards the middle of the line, but something warm folded over his hand and gently directed him to the right. Crowfeather nearly recoiled in shock, but there was something comforting about the presence, and he allowed it to guide him to his card. He caught a glimmer of interest in Midnight's eyes before she collected the remaining cards and shuffled them. Shifting the pile in her hands, she dealt eleven other face-down cards before him. When she was finished, she rested her stack to the side and reached for the card in Crowfeather's hand. Wordlessly, he handed it to her and watched as she flipped the first of the eleven over.

She pointed to the first card.  _The Storm_. "A storm approaches the Empire. While he can bring destruction and danger, his presence can also restore peace and bring forth new beginnings." She turned the second card.  _The Joker_. "There is someone hiding from you, living behind a mask so they are unrecognizable to you." Her eyes met his. "That mask could be a variety of things," she said. "Death. A new identity. A disappearance." Crowfeather stiffened at her words, his mind racing at her words. Who was Midnight describing?

She moved onto the third card. "That person holds something that is of great value to you," she murmured, fingers skimming over  _The Stars._  "Perhaps it is of great value to them as well." She turned the fourth. "There is a man who challenges your way of life," she murmured, tracing over  _The Blind Man_. "He is ignorant and blind to many things, but his focus rests on the most important things in life." Her black eyes glimmered. "It seems that you already know this man," she rumbled, studying the haunted expression on Crowfeather's face.

"I suppose," he replied.

Midnight flipped over the next card.  _The Stranger._  She stared at it for a few moments before turning over the next. Crowfeather raised an eyebrow at the movement, but held his tongue. The hair on his arms rose at the sight of the sixth card.  _Death._ "A stranger will die regardless of whichever path you take towards the future." She turned the seventh.  _Destiny._ "It will be that stranger's destiny to die, but destinies can be changed in the most unexpected of ways."

"But either way that person will die."

"Death can come in many ways," Midnight replied. "Starreign may pull you from a weathered, aged body or from a strong, youthful body. The road to Death may be as long or short as it pleases. One path may lead to your stranger dying of old age. Another may cut that stranger's life short. Regardless," she continued, tapping the eighth card, "an enemy awaits you. He will either be defeated or triumph over you. There are no other options to this," she added, stroking the ninth.  _The Enemy. Two Paths._  She pointed to the tenth card. "There is a sickness that threatens those around you," she murmured, fingers flitting across  _Malady_  and  _The Neighbor._  "A cure is possible, however, if you find the correct healers for it."

Crowfeather gazed at the eleventh card,  _The Priest_  before turning his attention to his card in Midnight's hand. The hairs on his arm rose in a mixture of fear and excitement. What card did he draw? Her eyes softened at the image and she slid the card across the table with a tender smile.  _The Chosen Lovers_. "There is a great love that awaits you, Crowfeather the Third," she murmured, gazing distractedly to her right. "But will it be lost again?" The blue-eyed king bristled at her words, following her eyes to  _The Enemy_.

Midnight blinked and turned her attention back to him. "There was a reading I preformed several years ago," she whispered. "A message from Starreign." A thoughtful look crossed her face. " _The truth will be found between the friend and the foe_. Perhaps it was the same  _Enemy_  that the cards have shown you."

"I don't see how a stranger's reading would affect mine," Crowfeather said.

"It was not a reading for a person," she murmured. "It was a reading from Starreign." She straightened, gathering all her cards and rising to her feet. "I must go. Remember, the cards act as guidance, Crowfeather the Third," she warned. "They do not speak the entire truth."

* * *

Third Person - Omniscient

 _Get out, get out—leave, leave._ Her chest burned as she doubled over, hands clutched over her breast as she fought to breathe. She could feel hands run up and down her back soothingly, a soft voice whispering over her ear, barely masking the sound of her children being led away.

"Is Mama going to be okay?"

"Papa, what's happening?"

 _Get out, get out—leave, leave._  The distant plains were dry and the air crackled with lightning. It wouldn't be long before everything burned. They had to leave—immediately.

 _I can't breathe_ , she thought as another cough rippled through her body. Gagging at the excess liquid in her throat, she felt a thin substance trickle down her chin. There was a handkerchief at her lips immediately, and a gentle hand wiped the fluids away. Pulling back, slightly, she started at the bloodstained fabric and began to struggle. What in the world was happening to her?

"Hush." A calloused hand brushed her hair out of the way as she collapsed into another coughing fit and the handkerchief dabbed at her chin. "Relax, Brook. You're in good hands." The brunette eased slightly at the sound of her friend's voice and relaxed into her touch.

_Get out, get out—leave, leave._

"How is she, Night?" Brook stirred at the sound of her husband's voice, but kept her eyes closed.

"I don't know, Stormfur," Night whispered. "I'm no healer, and Craig has only recently become Teller. It will be several months before he learns how to treat wounds and gain knowledge from the Endless Tribe. He may be too late for Brook." The brunette heard her friend hesitate and strained her ears to hear the next bit. "She has developed Blood Lung. Even with the Endless Tribe's extended knowledge of herbs and cures…it is highly unlikely that she will survive. Treatment of Blood Lung is difficult and expensive. We may not have the herbs necessary to heal her."

_Get out, get out—leave, leave._

"Great Starreign," Stormfur whispered. "What do we do now?" Brook tensed suddenly and shot forward, heaving as a coughing fit lit her chest on fire again. Night's hands were on her shoulders as the black-haired woman cooed into the brunette's ear, murmuring words of comfort.

" _Get out,_ " she moaned. " _Get out, get out—leave, leave._ "

"You should go, Stormfur," Night murmured.

"No!" Brook winced as she fought down the urge to cough. " _Get out, get out—leave, leave!_ " Shaking, she brought her brown eyes up to her meet her husband's blue. "The tribe," she croaked. " _Get out, get out—leave, leave._ "

"Get Teller," Brook heard Night whisper. "Quickly!" She felt the black-haired woman dab at her chin again. "Everything is going to be alright, Brook." Night's voice shook as she pulled the handkerchief away.

Brook shook her head. " _Get out, get out—leave, leave_ ," she insisted.

"Brook?" The brunette shifted at the sound of her brother's voice. "Night, what's going on?"

"I don't know, Teller," the black-haired woman replied, flustered. "Brook just keeps repeating ' _Get out, get out—leave, leave_ '."

"The tribe!" Brook insisted. Teller cast the two women an uncertain look before turning to Stormfur.

"I'm going to try to hold a meeting with the Endless Tribe," he murmured. "I don't know what's happening to Brook, but they might have an idea." He turned back to his sister. "Keep fighting, Brook," he said. "I'll do whatever I can to see you through this." Turning on his heel, he left the room.

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

"Blackfrost, remind me that we have an herbalism lesson tomorrow," Leafpool said as she pressed her hand firmly over his. His blue eyes snapped up to meet hers and a faint flush decorated his cheeks. "Remember to put pressure on bleeding wounds. If you don't press down hard enough, the more severe ones will bleed out." She pulled back, smiling at the patient. "Don't remove your hand until the bleeding has completely stopped."

"Leafpool, I've sent some children out for herbs," Silvermist murmured as she headed up the stairs.

"Hopefully they don't get poison ivy while they're gathering," the brunette sighed, smiling when the green-eyed woman giggled. She fetched her sewing kit and anesthetic salve before making her rounds, checking in with her various patients. She patched up a few cuts and bandaged a few others when a familiar amber-eyed cattleman tottered in with a guilty smile on his face. "Again?" she laughed, meeting him halfway across the room.

"Missy spooked," he said as she led him to a nearby chair. Rolling her eyes at him, she lifted his pants leg and studied his swollen ankle. "Is it broken?"

"Just sprained." Leafpool ducked behind her counter and returned with a small bottle. "Put a cold rag on it for an hour or two until the swelling goes down. Remember to change the rag so that you keep your ankle cool and be sure to check up with me tomorrow morning." She handed him the bottle. "Apply this over your ankle and wrap it up before you go to bed."

"How long do you think I'll have to wait before this is healed?" he asked, wiggling his leg.

"A few days." She gave him a warning look. "That is, if you don't end up straining it even more than you already have." Turning to his friends, she nodded to them. "I'll be counting on you two to keep him in line. And if you don't, you're going to have to explain to your mothers why the clinic doctor won't treat you."

"Yes ma'am." Bowing quickly to her, they helped the cattleman to his feet and hobbled out with him. Shaking her head after them, Leafpool returned to Blackfrost's side, pleasantly surprised to see that the bleeding had stopped. Sewing the first few stitches, she passed the needle to the black-haired villager and walked him through the process. When he was finished, she tied the knot for him and snipped the end of the thread carefully.

"Get some sleep, alright?" Leafpool murmured, patting the patient's shoulder. "If you need anything, just call my name." Turning to Blackfrost, she smiled at him. "I have to go to Brilstone to stock up on supplies," she said. "Can you watch the clinic for a bit? Silvermist will be upstairs if you need anything."

He nodded and she exited through the back of the clinic, grinning when Varnish trotted up to her. "Hey Varnish," she cooed, stroking his forehead. "We haven't visited Brilstone in a while now, haven't we?" The swamp on the border of the village usually provided her with most of the herbs she needed, but she visited Brilstone for supplies like bandages and the harder-to-find medicinal plants.

Varnish huffed in her face, nudging her with his nose. She patted his neck before fitting a saddle on his back and fitting the bit into his mouth. She latched a bag onto his saddle strap and checked her purse for money. Throwing a leg over his side, she settled onto his back and adjusted the reins. He snorted and tossed his mane a little as she fixed her dress. "Alright, alright." She patted his neck again and slipped her feet into the stirrups. He headed out of the backyard, bobbing his head at the village children who stopped to watch. Leafpool waved at them before squeezing Varnish's side, urging him into a trot.

As the two of them headed down the road to Brilstone, her thoughts drifted to her busy schedule. It had been seven months since she left the Empire with her children and only a few weeks since Blackfrost had arrived at her door, begging to become her apprentice. Now that she had Blackfrost and Silvermist helping her around the clinic, her days had become slightly less hectic and she was able to spare time to sleep and tend to her children. While Blackfrost still lived with his parents, Silvermist had moved in with Leafpool to better assist the brunette doctor.

The green-eyed assistant was asked to watch the clinic for thirty minutes each morning so Leafpool could take Varnish to the swamps for exercise. She was too busy to spend time training him, so she allowed him to roam the backyard as much as he pleased. He would occasionally plod out to the front of the clinic to greet incoming patients, but he broke plenty of hearts by refusing to allow the village children to ride him. He was a rather spirited horse, and Leafpool was thankful that his pride wouldn't allow children to mount him. He had a habit of getting over-excited and there were multiple occasions where she had walked away with a bruise to the hip or a bitten arm.

Leafpool made her purchases and quickly loaded them into the pouch on Varnish's saddle before heading back to Bluepeak. Blackfrost parted ways with her for the day as she closed up her clinic, and she headed upstairs while Silvermist made her last round for the evening. The two of them would share shifts during the night to check on the wounded, but Leafpool usually had first watch. Silvermist would eat a quick dinner, fix herself up for bed, and have four hours of sleep tucked under her belt along with a multitude of naps during the day.

Leafpool had grown accustomed to having a few hours of sleep a night, but she was hoping that Blackfrost would take to living in the clinic to ease up their schedules. The brunette lifted Lionblaze into the air, cooing as the one-year-old squealed at the movement. She was nineteen now, exhausted and a little lost in life. There was little for her to complain about aside from missing her family and the man she loved.

 _It's a busy life,_  she thought, burying her nose into Lionblaze's head of golden hair.  _But it's worth having._

* * *

Three summers had passed since she last visited the Empire. Lionblaze and Hollyleaf were little balls of energy as they raced through the clinic and played with the older village children. Jayfeather followed suit in a much more relaxed fashion, but his blindness made him an outcast. The village children were wary of him, but they allowed him to participate in the games after learning that both Hollyleaf and Lionblaze would refuse to do anything without their brother. Jayfeather took more to staying by Leafpool's side as she tended to her patients, so it wasn't long before his siblings began to spend more time with the villagers. Miraculously, their bond stayed strong as they began to alternate days of following their mother around with playing outside in the sun.

Today was one of the rare days where there were few patients housed in the clinic and the villagers seemed successful with keeping themselves out of danger. Taking advantage of the situation, Leafpool left Blackfrost in charge and took to the fields with her children, Varnish, and Silvermist close in pursuit.

"Lionblaze!" Leafpool caught her adventurous three-year-old under his arms and lifted him to her chest. The golden-haired toddler squealed as he twisted in his mother's grasp and shifted into a more comfortable position. "I caught you," she growled playfully, kissing his cheeks. "Tell me where Hollyleaf and Jayfeather are!"

"Not gonna tell!" he taunted, doing his best to keep his face away from her. "But I'm gonna help you find 'em! So pummie down!"

"Hmmm, I don't know," Leafpool sang, giggling when Lionblaze balked at her. She set him onto his feet, only to lunge forward when he tore away from her. "Hey!" she complained in mock-betrayal. "You cheated! You're supposed to help me!" Her amber-eyed child threw a wide-eyed look over his shoulder and let out another shriek at the sight of his mother chasing after him. He pumped his legs as quickly as he could, a fountain of giggles erupting from him as he pushed the tall grass aside.

Smiling, Leafpool slowed her pace and began to make exaggerated motions of her arms. If Squirrelflight had seen her now, she'd think her sister was trying to swim. "Oh no!" Leafpool wailed. "He's too fast! Lionblaze is uncatchable—he's faster than the speed of light!"

Up ahead, the golden-haired boy let out a triumphant cry before disappearing into the taller grass and shrubbery. Leafpool slowed to a stop behind him and turned to survey the area. She could see Varnish resting under the shade of a nearby tree, nibbling at the grass and ripening berries. Silvermist was likely chasing down Hollyleaf—or at least, was waiting by the picnic blanket Leafpool had set out hours ago. The brunette shook her head and was about to continue chasing Lionblaze when a flash of gray caught her eye.

Sinking down into a low crouch, she crept forward, her footsteps carefully masked under the sound of rustling grass. If she could position herself properly and walk carefully, Jayfeather's extremely sensitive sense of smell and hearing wouldn't give away her position. She felt a small burst of pride when she found the gray-haired toddler hunched over in the grass, seemingly unaware of her presence. She was about to scare him off with a cry when Hollyleaf's voice cut through the clearing. "Jay! She's right behind you!"  _Darn_ , Leafpool thought as her son shot up immediately and fled. She waited until he gained a few feet before racing after him, her lengthy strides quickly closing the distance between the two of them.

Plucking him mid-step, she twirled him in the air, laughing at the startled expression on his face. "I caught you," Leafpool growled, blowing a raspberry against his cheek. Letting out a squeal, Jayfeather pressed his hand against her face, trying to turn away from her. "Mercy?" she teased. "Do I hear surrender?"

"Never!" The blue-eyed toddler declared triumphantly, a small stutter making his determined expression much less convincing. Leafpool stifled a giggle as she blew another raspberry on his cheek and he twisted away with a cry.

"No mercy? Then I'm going to have to eat you!" she declared, covering her teeth with her lips. She nibbled his cheek, smiling when he thrashed playfully in her arms. Falling to her knees, she laid him on the ground and proceeded to attack his sides with tickles. He shrieked and wiggled away from her as best he could, but she pulled him back when he scooted away. "Mercy?" she offered again.

"Mercy!" he stammered, trying to fight her off. Leafpool paused for a second and he blinked up at her, eyes teary from laughter. "Lemme go!" he demanded. She looked skeptically at him before letting out a long sigh.

"I don't think so," she tut-tutted.

"Why?" he managed before bursting out into giggles again as her fingers tickled his sides.

"Because you took too long to decide!" Leafpool gave him another raspberry on the cheek and Jayfeather threw his head back, trying desperately to evade her. After a few minutes, Leafpool sat back and grinned at the sleepy, dazed boy before her. He blinked blearily at her and yawned angrily in her direction.

"You got me sleepy!" he accused, a scowl crossing his features.

"Oh no," Leafpool whimpered, "I got you sleepy!" She cradled him in her arms and stood, smiling when his arms snaked up to wrap around her neck. Pressing a kiss to his temple, she headed in the general direction of the picnic blanket she had set up several hours ago. She found Silvermist with a pouting Hollyleaf tucked under her arm, and the silver-haired woman smiled at the sleepy look in Jayfeather's eyes. "Where's Lionblaze?" Leafpool asked, gently setting Jayfeather on the blanket.

"I haven't found him yet," Silvermist said. "But I can watch over Jay and Holly if you want to go look for him." She glanced fondly at Hollyleaf, who was stifling a yawn. "Holly's a bit tuckered out from our tussle, but she doesn't want to admit it."

"'M not tired!" The black-haired toddler affirmed, frowning at her mother.

"Of course you aren't," Leafpool reassured her, swallowing a giggle. "But Jay's about to fall asleep right now and he's really tired from playing. Can you be quiet for him?" Hollyleaf seemed to consider the idea for a few seconds before nodding. "Alright, well I'm going to go find Lionblaze. We've left Blackfrost in charge of the clinic for quite a long time and I wouldn't be surprised if he's having a panic attack right now," Leafpool sighed.

"He's a perfectionist—what can you say?" Silvermist laughed, setting Hollyleaf beside her brother. The siblings curled up into each other, Jayfeather's breathing evening out quickly as his sister's eyes fluttered shut. Leafpool smiled at her children before marching out into the tall grass to call out to her third.

"Lionblaze? Oh where, oh where could the mighty Lionblaze be hiding?" She paused to see if she could catch the sound of giggling, but she heard nothing but the rustling grass. Varnish lifted his head in the distance and Leafpool summoned him with a shrill whistle. The chestnut stallion was by her side in seconds. "This is tragic," she said, turning her attention back to finding her son. "If I can't find Lionblaze, the world will be lost without his greatness." When she had yet to catch sight of the blond-haired toddler, she added, "As would dinner."

"Not dinner!" Lionblaze whined, bursting out of the grass immediately. Laughing, Leafpool caught him just as he leapt into her arms.

"Well now, dinner will never be lost," she murmured, kissing him on the forehead. He pretended to be disgusted by the gesture, but he leaned forward for another when she pulled away.  _I wonder what the village boys have been telling him_ , she thought as she carried him back to the others.  _He's too attached to me to take what they say to heart, but they're bound to influence him whether he likes it or not. Being the headstrong one, he'll probably end up taking it out on Holly and Jay…_ well, time for Mama to step in. "Leo*, did the village boys tell you that girls have cooties again?"

The toddler in her arms tensed and let out a frustrated growl. "I knew Holly and Jay would tatter!"

"Tattle," Leafpool corrected. "No, they didn't tattle on you." She shifted him in her arms and regarded him quietly. "Leo, what's the most important thing in your life?"

"My family," he replied automatically.

"Is that what you really think?" she pressed. "Or is that something I told you?"

"My family is the most important!" he insisted, scrunching his face at her. "Family comes first!"

"Then don't listen to what your friends say if you don't think it's true." Seeing the uncertain expression on his face, Leafpool tried another tactic. "Do girls have cooties?" He hesitated and she quickly rephrased her question. "Does Mama have cooties?"

Lionblaze recoiled, a horrified expression on his face. "No!"

"But Mama's a girl."

"Mama doesn't have cooties!"

"Alright then, does Holly have cooties?"

He looked slightly less confident on this one. "No," he admitted after a few seconds. "Holly's never made me sick."

"Okay. So if Mama and Holly don't have cooties and we're both girls, do you still think girls have cooties?"

"No," he said.

"Alright then. But sometimes people get sick, and—"

"That's 'cause they got cooties!" Lionblaze cut her off proudly.

"No, they don't have cooties. They just don't feel well. Be nice to them, but don't get too close unless I tell you it's alright, okay? Sometimes they don't feel well enough to play."

"Okay." At this point, the two of them arrived at the picnic blanket, where Hollyleaf and Jayfeather were curled in to each other. Leafpool glanced at Lionblaze.

"Can you walk by yourself? Holly and Jay fell asleep!"

"A course!"

"Of course, sweetheart." She set him down and gathered his siblings in her arms. Silvermist hurriedly collected the blanket, put it in the basket, and reached for Hollyleaf. She was careful not to bump into Jayfeather, who was rather irritable whenever he was awoken. Strangely, the blue-eyed toddler had a horrible reaction whenever his mother wasn't the one holding him in his sleep. He generally disliked being carried by anyone who wasn't Leafpool, but he was becoming much more accustomed to being held by Silvermist. Of course, his attachment to his mother made him a target of the village boys, but Lionblaze and Hollyleaf were always there to fight them off.

"What's for dinner?" Lionblaze asked, keeping his voice a respectful level as he skipped ahead.

"Well, Clarence dropped by with a chicken and some vegetables, so we can have that as side dishes," Leafpool mused.

"I harvested some garlic from the garden this morning," Silvermist said. "Blackfrost's parents came over with some cheese when you were out with Varnish this morning." The chestnut stallion snorted at his name and shook his mane out. "I can make some bread if you'd like."

"That sounds good. Alistair gave me a back of quinoa for treating his wife," Leafpool said. "The soup I prepared this morning should be ready for the patients by the time we get home." _Hopefully Blackfrost remembered to feed them while I was gone_ , she thought.  _I can't have my patients starving to death._  Most of her poorer customers paid her with goods and produce, so Leafpool frequently found herself preparing meals for her patients with the excess food. The wealthier customers were asked to pay their sum in coins, so she could still afford to purchase supplies from Brilstone. "That is, unless Blackfrost tried to season it while we were gone."

"I think you should stop teaching him how to treat patients and work on his culinary skills instead," Silvermist chuckled. Leafpool smiled and Lionblaze giggled up ahead. After realizing that the black-haired man had little to no talent with cooking, the brunette doctor had asked him how he expected to provide for his patients when he opened up his own clinic. He had informed her of his plans to hire someone to cook while he tended to the injured, and that earned him a smack on the head.

His plan was definitely reasonable, but Leafpool was disappointed by how narrow-minded he was. Being a good doctor was one thing, but doing everything you could for your patients was another. He seemed to be convinced that caring for his patients would be enough, but in reality, there was much more to nursing than he seemed to think. Nursing was a way of loving and taking someone under your wing. It was a mother's touch coupled with a firm hand of reassurance. It frustrated Leafpool to think he saw doctoring and nursing so lightly.

"You know, the way he reacted made it seem like he thought he would work for you forever," Silvermist said after a few moments of silence. Her voice was low enough that Lionblaze couldn't hear it, but Leafpool was still unnerved by the silver-haired woman's words. "I'm sure you've seen the way he looks at you."

"I have," Leafpool admitted. "But I…" A familiar face flashed in her mind, an unusually tender glow in his icy blue eyes and a tentative smile on his lips. She could almost smell the sharp, spicy yet cool fragrance that wafted around him each time he crossed her mind. Blackfrost was sweet and endearing in his own way, but he couldn't make Leafpool's heart race with a single glance or touch. After all these years, Leafpool still dreamt of that piercing blue stare even though she was well aware of the warm, doe-like azure that waited patiently by her side. After all these years, Leafpool was still in love with Crowfeather.

"You can't forget 'him'," Silvermist whispered.

"I don't think I ever will," Leafpool croaked.

"Blackfrost is a good man."

"He's just turned nineteen."

"A child, then. But either way, he's good to you."

"I know. But he's not the one that I want."

"Sometimes we have to settle for something a little different."

"I'm well aware of that," Leafpool said tartly. "But I can't bring myself to have a relationship with Blackfrost if I'm only going to hurt him in the end."

"Oh, Leafpool," the silver-haired woman sighed. "You're waiting for someone who won't ever come back."

"Aren't you the same?" Leafpool felt guilty for bringing up the topic of Silvermist's husband, but there was an uncanny resemblance between their situations. The villager's husband had died in an accident five years ago and the child she had been carrying had been faced with some complications at birth. It had been a tragic event, and it seemed that even now, she had yet to fully recover.

"Two birds of a feather," she agreed. "But I think my heart's mostly healed now." She glanced at Leafpool. "I think it's possible for me to fall in love again."

"I'm not sure if that'll happen to me anytime soon," the brunette replied.  _After all, I'm not meant to fall in love_ , she thought bitterly, remembering Spottedleaf's words. The tortoiseshell cat still haunted her in her dreams despite Yellowfang and Feathertail's best attempts to keep her away. It seemed that only Bluestar's presence could deter the medicine cat from stalking Leafpool. _What a cruel and bitter reality_ , she thought. The brunette lifted her head and studied the red, orange, and purple hues of the setting sun. Somewhere, somehow, she wished that the man she loved was staring at the same sky.

 


	18. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Crowfeather settles into his role as Gaian King, conflict sparks in the Aristocratic House Council as the Mirvirian-Emperian War begins to take its toll on the Empire's economy and its citizens. To make matters worse, a stranger claiming to be of noble blood arrives on the steps of Evermore with a group of refugees trailing close behind, and Crowfeather is faced with the ghost of someone who had disappeared several years ago...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented/kudoed!
> 
> I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in two/three months. College caught up to me much faster than I originally thought, and I haven't been able to update until now. I don't know if I'll be able to update next week, but I'll do my best to do so! If not, I'll upload the next chapter as soon as I can

Third Person – Crowfeather

Many of his citizens criticized him for not taking a wife in the four years since his coronation. While some argued in favor of his situation, they decided that his reason for staying unmarried was because he was too young for such an engagement. In reality, Crowfeather had attempted to court several aristocrats and had been approached by many, but each time he tried to voice his attraction, he was pulled back by an invisible force that rendered him speechless and made the prospect of a relationship unsatisfying.

There were many nights where he'd wake in a cold sweat, chilled by the flash of amber in his dreams. He found himself suffocating under the scent of vanilla and jasmine and the skin that tickled his cheek was smooth and soft to the touch. Crowfeather could hear the whisper of a pencil over a paper surface and the rustling of pages whenever he was offered a moment of silence. He saw fingers calloused from the weight of a pen and the faint scabs of a long-forgotten paper cut. He recalled her furrowed eyebrows, the twitch of her eye, and the smooth line of her mouth before he remembered that the only way Leafpool could exist was to live on in his dreams.

Midnight and Rock had become frequent visitors of his and he begrudgingly accepted their company despite their irritating habit to speak in riddles. While Rock guarded his dreams and his state of mind, Midnight tended to his emotions. Her cards never made another appearance during her visits, but he thought of them frequently—regardless of whether she alluded to them or not. While she took up a good portion of his office hours, there were few citizens to fill up the remaining time.

The throne of the king had become his place of darkness. Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt drifted away, distracted by the different social events and gatherings held by aristocratic houses. Crowfeather, who was swamped on a day-to-day basis with paperwork, was unable to attend any meetings aside from those held with the Council to discuss war strategies and political affairs. Squirrelflight, who had once been the glue to hold their group of friends together, was strangely distant and distracted from both her fiancé and the outside world.

Crowfeather could only depend on his advisors for company despite the lack of time he had to enjoy it. Hawkshade provided acting classes for the blue-eyed king, insisting that it would benefit him in the long run. Lionpelt, on the other hand, set aside an hour of sparring practice to keep Crowfeather physically fit. Ashfoot organized fifteen-minute meditation periods to increase thought process and alleviate stress while Rowanheart taught Crowfeather everything he needed to know about ranged weapons.

Each advisor seemed to have something they wanted Crowfeather to take part of, and before he knew it, there was hardly any time in his schedule to explore his enormous library or to take a nap. They reassured him that his duties would decline significantly once the war was over and that in the meantime, he should work to his best ability to ease the strain on both Rushtail and Larkwing, who were working graveyard shifts to make ends meet both internationally and economically.

Crowfeather rolled his shoulder, wincing as the joint cracked. This week had been particularly difficult—on top of his current duties, he had to also preform ceremonies to retain the bond between the Empire and Starreign. They were performed four times a year, but each he spent at least a week completing each ritual and blessing. Glancing at the clock, he set his pen aside and began to organize his papers. Rowanheart would be here any minute to escort him—

"Crowfeather." The blue-eyed king blinked and raised his head to see the redheaded advisor leaning against the doorframe. Wordlessly, he rose to his feet and exited his office, matching Rowanheart's relaxed pace. In the presence of the public, his advisors were legally required to refer to him as 'his majesty' or 'your majesty'. In their meeting rooms or in private conversations, they were encouraged to call him by his real name, and more fondly, 'Crow' by Ashtail.

Crowfeather smiled at the thought of the elderly advisor. Being the eldest of the seven, Ashtail was relaxingly calm but had a temper to match Torrentpelt's. Although it was much more difficult to agitate the gray-haired advisor than his junior, even the fearless Lionpelt was terrified of Ashtail's wrath. He could easily cause the optimistic Rowanheart to curl up in a corner in a depressed state.

"Last ceremony of the day," Rowanheart murmured, jolting Crowfeather from his thoughts.

"Thank Starreign. My hand was starting to cramp from signing all of those documents." The blue-eyed king mock-scowled, the corners of his lips quirking upwards at the redhead's laugh. "I can't say I'm looking forward to waking up at twilight tomorrow."

"Too bad we can't let you nap in between," Rowanheart sniggered. There were three ceremonies Crowfeather was required to fulfill each day. The first took place at the break of dawn, the next when the sun was at its highest point, and the last occurred at sunset. In between rituals, the blue-eyed king was expected to hold meetings with his advisory board, make himself available to tend to civilian needs in his office, and go through mountains of papers that described legalities and other aspects of the government. "Just wait—once this week's over, we'll be on the war front with Rushtail to give pep talks to our armies."

Crowfeather had nearly forgotten about the trip. His mind was still swimming in the jargon-filled documents that covered his desk. "Fun," he deadpanned as they approached the ceremonial hall. Once inside, the two of them descended into a circular room as guards took their positions by the spiral staircase. Reaching the base of the stairs, Crowfeather looked up, catching the faint shadow of a guard's helmet on the steps above him. Rowanheart left him with a few attendants, who quickly helped Crowfeather into his ceremonial robes.

He donned the heavy robes before entering the hallway that connected to the ceremonial room. Once inside, he murmured a quick prayer to Starreign before removing his robes. Two of his attendants, who were experienced in the ceremonial process, took his discarded clothes and quickly placed it to the side. Crowfeather shivered as he stepped towards the ceremonial pool, his semi-sheer tunic and trousers providing no resistance to the cold air. Carefully submerging himself, he stayed underwater for approximately thirty seconds before surfacing. Cupping his hands together, Crowfeather began his prayer as his first attendant began to sprinkle the ground-up powder of every rock type found in the Empire onto his open palms.

"Starreign, Mother earth, and the Elements, I, Crowfeather the Third, humbly place myself before you and thank you for all that you have provided us with. Please continue to bless our beloved nation, protect us from our aggressors, assist those who are less fortunate in life, love all those who live among us, and bestow upon us the promise you enacted upon Birchsong the Third, of late.*" Crowfeather placed his palms together, careful to avoid spilling the powder. "I, Crowfeather the Third, urge you to bless this nation as I have blessed your earth. Every rock face and stone represents those of the Empire as each citizen will be honored for his or her differences. Please guide and protect them, as you have done for me."

He rubbed his hands together before sprinkling the powder onto the surface of the water. During his prayer, his two attendants had walked along the pool, creating a small trail of the same ground-up rock around the edge of the water. "Blessed be, Starreign, Mother earth, and the Elements." Crowfeather closed his eyes and sunk under the surface again, holding his position for thirty seconds before resurfacing. He wiped the water from his face before climbing out of the pool and carefully sweeping the trail of rock particles into the pool.

His attendants were by his side in seconds, taking his soaked ceremonial attire and replacing it with a plain set of robes. Rowanheart waited by the door, prepared to take Crowfeather to the location of his next ritual. The two of them walked in silence, aware that Crowfeather was forbidden to speak to anyone aside from Starreign during the ceremony. The blue-eyed king was escorted to his gardens, where he murmured prayers under his breath while passing through the rows of plants. It was then that he could voice his concerns for his people, for the war, and relay his thoughts to Starreign.

The sky had turned a plum-color by the time he was finished with the ceremony. Thankfully, none of his advisors seemed interested in holding a meeting for the night, so Crowfeather hastily headed for his chambers and took solace in the darkness of his bedroom. As he slipped under the covers and fell into a delirious sleep, he thought of holly leaves, a pale blue bird, and a lion who glowed like a sun.

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

Her fingers glided across Hollyleaf's cheek as the moon climbed steadily into the sky. Leafpool watched the rise and fall of her sons' chests as they slept, reveling in the peace they found in the night. She had awoken a few minutes ago, her mind refusing to let her body rest peacefully. After doing a quick check-up on her patients, Leafpool had returned to her bedroom, smiling at the sight of her children.

Jayfeather was nestled between his two siblings, lying flat on his back while Hollyleaf and Lionblaze curled into him. The two of them doted on their youngest brother behind half-hearted taunts and petty pranks, although Jayfeather was convinced that it was borderline harassment. The three of them would bicker constantly throughout the day, whether it was about Jayfeather's inability to properly play hide-and-seek, Hollyleaf's snide and prideful remarks or Lionblaze's brawns-before-brains tactics.

Leafpool gazed at her children before turning her attention to the moon that peeked through her window. A first-quarter moon hung in the sky, its silver light casting a marble-like quality on everything it touched. She stepped into the pool of moonlight on her floor, chilled and captivated by its beauty. Resting her head against the window frame, she studied the quarter moon, reminiscing about the astronomy lessons she learned as a child. The moon had always been her favorite—it stood as a reassuring presence in the sky while the other planets floated along as pinpricks of light, hardly recognizable in the night.

The quarter moon was a moon of decisions. Leafpool felt her lips quirk upwards at the irony of the situation. She had never believed in the rituals and titles associated with each phase, but her life currently reflected the half-moon above her. She tore her eyes away and looked down into her backyard, scanning the grassy ground for Varnish or any other signs of life.

Blackfrost had confessed to her today. He admitted to imaging Hollyleaf, Jayfeather, and Lionblaze as his own children, but instead of making Leafpool feel comfortable with his attempts to bring their relationship out of a platonic state, he made her feel like a hunted doe. Blackfrost had only recently turned twenty-two and had yet to become a qualified doctor under Leafpool's guidance. She couldn't corner her children into having a step-father who could barely fend for himself. Her heart throbbed painfully at the thought of marrying a man she didn't love.

She was being dramatic, of course she was. Blackfrost was a kind man, regardless of how childish he could be. He was loved and sought after by many village women and several city people. His politeness, his chiseled appearance, and his gentle hand made many women swoon at a single touch.

_You could learn to love him_ , a voice grumbled in the back of her head.

Oh, if only it were that easy. Leafpool couldn't help but think Crowfeather every time she looked at her children. She saw him in the arch of Lionblaze's neck and the slope of his nose. In Hollyleaf, she saw her father's wit and quick tongue. Nearly everything about Jayfeather reminded her of the blue-eyed Gaian king of the Empire. She caught herself observing her children and noting the similar choices that Crowfeather would've made as a child. She couldn't bear to be in a relationship with Blackfrost if her every thought revolved around another man.

Her reply to his affections was immediate. They were to keep their platonic, friendly relationship or revert to the less intimate teacher-and-student bond. The black-haired villager was obviously distraught by her response, but he had quickly gathered his bearings and left the clinic after excusing himself. Silvermist, who had undoubtedly heard the exchange, had only squeezed Leafpool's shoulder in sympathy before doing her last rounds for the afternoon.

The brunette saw movement in the corner of the backyard and watched as Varnish stepped out of his stables and nickered softly at her. She hurried out of her bedroom, careful to avoid the squeaky panel by the stairs as she rushed downstairs. After quickly looking over her patients, she rushed into the backyard. Varnish, who turned silver under the moonlight, huffed at her as she pressed his nose against her cheek as she slipped her arms around his neck.

The two of them stayed like that for a few minutes before she pulled back and took a deep breath. "I wish they could know who their father is," she whispered, petting his mane. Twisting her fingers in his black locks, Leafpool leaned against him. "Do you think Blackfrost could've been a good father to them?" Varnish's ears swiveled and he snorted. A small smile tugged at the corners of Leafpool's lips. "Yeah, I think so too."

For some reason, her children were particularly wary of Blackfrost. Even as infants they had made it clear that they disliked the black-haired villager, often crying or fussing whenever he came too close. Now that they were older, they pointedly ignored his requests and his attempts at holding a conversation unless Leafpool gave them a warning look. Silvermist told her that they had even gone as far as planning pranks to pull on Blackfrost although they never were too motivated to go through with them. It was almost as if pranking him would be a waste of their time.

"I don't think they'll ever accept anyone who isn't their real father." There were exceptions to this, of course. While the children were comfortable with Silvermist and polite to most, if not all, of Leafpool's patients, they were tolerable towards Blackfrost and absolutely horrendous to her suitors. Being a fairly attractive woman in a very successful business, a few of her patients or male relatives of her patients tried to court her. They were quickly chased off by her children, who did everything in their power to make the aspect of marrying Leafpool unappealing. They often succeeded by throwing random fits and tantrums, playing petty pranks, and being obnoxiously obvious with their dislike of possible courters.

Her children were both loved and pitied by the village. Too keep prying ears away, Leafpool had lied about their father's whereabouts, telling any curious gossiper that he had died soon after the children were conceived. Thankfully, the rumors had died before her children were capable of understanding the false identity of their situation, but there were a few reverberations whenever an outsider asked about her marital status. Silvermist was the only villager who knew the real truth, and thankfully, had guarded it carefully.

She wasn't planning on having a life with another man, but the future had yet to unravel under the eyes of Starreign. Perhaps she'll wake up one day and realize that Blackfrost—or whatever unnamed suitor who crosses her path—is the one to put her mind at ease. But in the meantime, she would have to fend for herself and keep a distance between the country she loved and the country she lives in.

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

His first impression of the Aristocratic House Council Meeting had been rather stressing—his father had gotten into an argument over other aristocratic heads over different aspects of the war front while he sat awkwardly to the side in an attempt to comprehend the situation at hand. His next few impressions, which were all experienced in the  _front_  of the room as opposed to the side of it, were even more worrying than before.

After five years of war debates and council meetings, Crowfeather had yet to grow fully accustomed to being watched by some of the most powerful people in the Empire. He still felt uncomfortable with being watched by his role models and other well-respected figures. The two other leaders seemed to experience the same unease, but they had already developed methods to divert or expel their discomfort. Rushtail, who sat to Crowfeather's left, had an uncanny habit of twirling a pen and tapping his feet as he spoke. Larkwing, on the other hand, twisted the hem of his sleeves and worried at document edges whenever they were passed to him.

"Mirvirans are known to be a bloodthirsty, stubborn bunch," Blackstar said. "They won't hesitate to throw anyone into the line of battle."

"Then are you suggesting that  _we_  do the same?" Crookedstar challenged, rising. "Our nation was formed on the ideals of peace and domestic prosperity. Our aristocratic forces are doing their best to prevent the enlistment of more peasants!"

"In addition to that, our economy is declining," Rowanclaw said. "Many of our neighboring countries are reluctant to trade with us because of the war. They're afraid that they'll be targeted by Mirviran next."

"Not to mention that most of our male work force and a good fraction of our female work force are taking part of the army," Reedfeather grumbled. "It's only a matter of time until we fall into a recession."

"Well if those traders could realize that their flow of resources would help us win the war, our economy wouldn't be on the edge of shambles!" Dustpelt scowled, standing. "Don't they realize that it would be suicide for the Mirvirans to divert their fighting forces? If we go down, then they'll be the next targets!"

"I envy your enthusiasm, Dustpelt," Leafstar said dryly, "but I'm afraid that it's not that easy to use that persuasion with merchants. They're masters of bartering and they have no interest in supporting a country that can only purchase goods at a reduced price."

"This war has to end now," Onestar growled. "We've been pushing back and forth for the last six years and our current tactics aren't working. Either we push through  _now_  or we wait until our entire population is killed off!" Beside him, the head of Gustil nodded in agreement. Her house consisted of a radical bunch of aristocrats, all of which were in full support of ending the war by whatever means necessary. They were the largest fighting force in the aristocratic army and were the most successful in convincing peasants to join the war cause.

"It's hardly as simple as that," Brackenfur objected. "We need to think this over."

"Tomorrow may be too late," Firestar said. "I agree with Onestar, we need a new set of tactics. However, I don't believe that charging through the war would be a particularly intelligent choice. We should give orders to the coordinators on the war front to do whatever they can to end the war, but without sacrificing too much."

"War is not won without sacrifice," Nightstar said coolly. "Throwing the reigns to the coordinators will make this war even more chaotic than it already is."

"All our coordinators have been capable of doing is dragging this war along while we sit here and bicker about what path to take!" Onestar glared at the head of Terrum. "We've been restricting them the entire time. We need to have a connector—someone who can bring over the wishes  _of_ the council and oversee the war strategies without limiting our choices. I say that we send some of the head members to the war front."

"Are you aware of dangers your plan exposes us to?" Crookedstar glowered at the brunet. "Of course, you have no fear since you are yet to become the Head of Gustil, but think of your current head. Honeyleaf, like several other council members, is well beyond her years of participating in the war. We can't afford to have our aristocratic houses collapse if one of the heads is killed in battle."

"Isn't that what your advisory board is for?" Onestar shot back. "All you have is a line of replacements waiting to take your spot as soon as you keel over from stubbornness!" Mistyfoot rose at his words, her blue eyes flashing as she took a defensive position next to Crookedstar. Tension filled the air as the aristocrats glowered at each other, each waiting to see who would make the first move. Crowfeather heard the chair to his left scrape across the wooden floor as Rushtail slammed his hands onto his desk.

" _Enough!_ " He fixed the three aristocrats with a dark look. "Be seated," he said.

"But—" Mistyfoot started.

" _I said 'be seated'!_ " Everyone in the room flinched and quickly sunk into their seats. Rushtail scanned the room before returning to his chair. "The topic will be changed for now. I expect all of you to rest tonight and sleep over the ideas brought up in today's meeting. In the meantime, we should discuss what should happen in case another war is to take part in the Empire."

Crowfeather glanced at Larkwing, who gave him a brief smile and gave the corner of his paper a distracted tweak. Both the Gaian king and the domestic leader were out of their element whenever it came to discussing foreign affairs. Although they knew that both their houses weren't the most educated when it came to international events and workings, they still fought as if they were experts on the case. Rushtail's transition to a much more domestic topic allowed Larkwing exercise his thoughts on the war, but Crowfeather was a lost cause. He was mainly present as a witness, seeing that the laws dictated that he was required to attend any council meetings that revolved around national affairs such as taxes, recognition of a new house, or wars.

"I propose that we create a knighting school for our peasants. It'll provide them with a few chances to improve their social and economic standings," Rowanclaw suggested. Crowfeather sat up slightly—this had been a topic he discussed with his advisors during one of their meetings.

"That could easily become a waste of money," Reedfeather objected. "Seeing how wars are uncommon in our history."

"As uncommon as wars can be, they are still unpredictable," Blackstar said. "The future may hold many wars for the Empire. It's better to be prepared with a fighting force than to have inexperienced civilians staking out the war front." He nodded to Rowanclaw. "Continue your proposal."

The head of Necrasung bowed his head in thanks. "I'm aware that most knights are men, so many jobs would be freed if they were to compete for positions in the knight force. This could open up opportunities for many women who are left at home without the ability to provide money into their family."

"It will ease the emphasis on a patriarchal society," Firestar mused. "But there are still concerns regarding how useful the knights would be in the case of peace. Would they replace our guards, or would they turn to defending the aristocratic houses? Surely there isn't that much conflict within the Empire—aside from crime, of course."

"I say make a school in general," Brackenfur said. "Education would undoubtedly benefit whoever rises to the occasion."

"Mind you, these are peasants that we're speaking of," Crookedstar said pointedly. "Many of these peasants spend most of their day working for an employer or selling goods on the streets. The majority of peasant families send their children out to work as soon as they hit the age of fourteen! All those who aren't old enough to work help their mother around the house!"

"I apologize—are we speaking of farmers or of peasants?" Crowfeather asked tartly. Several heads turned in surprise and even Larkwing glanced at him with wide eyes. "There is no wrong in providing education for the children before they reach the age of fourteen. We should give as peasants as many chances as possible to become scholars."

"And why should we spend money on them when we could easily use those funds in another way?" Reedfeather sneered. "There are plenty of problems that need to be solved and I hardly think educating the peasantry should be the first thing we consider."

"Watch how you speak. My advisory board consists of peasants who fought for their education," Crowfeather growled. "They are far more reasonable  _and_  intelligent than many of the aristocrats I've had the displeasure of meeting, and many peasants visit my palace in search of opportunities to rise from a state of poverty. When you run a country, you think of its people first. Everything else is considered later."

"I do believe your advisors have you indoctrinated," the head of Yestermorn sniffed. "Peasants are hardly capable of what you believe. All they need is food, water, and a roof over their heads."

"Just as how all spoiled aristocrats need power, stupidity, and a knack for disrespect," Crowfeather said coldly. Reedfeather stiffened at the blue-eyed king's words, looking strangely like a flustered peacock. "It is your job, as a member of the Council of Domestic Affairs, to tend to the peoples' needs, but it seems that I think of them far more often then you do. Peasants are not simpletons. Peasants are every bit a human as any aristocrat is and many of them deserve better than what they have. In fact, many of them deserve the riches that rest in your hands, the wealth and status that was passed onto you by your parents. These  _peasants_  work themselves to death in search of a new beginning, a life worth living for, while you rot away in your manor with glass of wine and a platter of cheese hanging off your knee."

The room was silent by the time Crowfeather had finished, and for a split second, the blue-eyed king feared that he had gone too far. But the proud glint in Firestar's eye reassured him and Crowfeather leaned back in his chair, satisfied with his actions. The Head of Zephyra was so highly respected that many often forgot of his humble origins as an orphaned peasant. Although he was a member of the Council of International Affairs, the redhead often did whatever he could to participate in domestic debates and argue for the peasantry.

Neither Larkwing nor Rushtail spoke a word to him for the remainder of the council meeting and Crowfeather tried to ignore the heated glares he received from the House of Yestermorn. When the meeting was concluded, Firestar walked over to Crowfeather and wrapped him in a hug. "Tallstar would've been proud," the redhead whispered before pulling away. He leveled him with a firm green gaze. "Stand tall, Crowfeather," he said. "Your heart will win you many supporters." Firestar squeezed the blue-eyed king's shoulder once before leaving him alone in the council room.

When Crowfeather entered the private room behind the council room, Rushtail clapped him on the shoulder, a pleased yet wary expression on his face. Larkwing squeezed his hands, smiling brightly as he ushered the Gaian king to the couch. "You've got guts," Rushtail murmured, crossing his arms. "You'll gain some enemies from that."

"But you've won the respect of many," Larkwing murmured. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. "The Gaian king has finally carved his mark into the council. Everyone knows where and how you stand."

"In a good stance," Rushtail said. "A good and strong stance."

* * *

While he was making a name for himself within the aristocratic houses, he was still badgered by his attendants and citizens on the topic of marriage. True to Firestar's words, many houses had grown to respect him after his stance on education for peasants and began to send aristocratic women as potential wives. After a particularly nasty encounter with a beautiful aristocrat named Nightcloud, Crowfeather send out a message to all houses regarding his involvement in the war effort and his limited time to court.

Although the black-haired woman was extremely attractive, she frequently interrupted his meetings with his advisory board for attention and irritated most of his staff by complaining about the smallest of things. After four days, he sent her home—partially to appease his servants and mostly to remove the clutter from his mind.

Frustratingly enough, there were rumors floating around his sexual preferences after his disinterest in many beautiful aristocrats, and there were quite a few people who believed that he was in a romantic—or at least sexual—relationship with Rowanheart. The redheaded advisor frequently teased him about it, but a half-hearted glare was often enough to scare him away. It wasn't until the rumors got out of hand that Rowanheart began to balk at the thought of being in a relationship with Crowfeather. The blue-eyed king, with a begrudging smile on his face, reassured the redhead that it 'was about time' that he realized the situation at hand.

Another year rolled around and the entire Empire was in celebration and mourning. The war with Mirviran had finally ended—resulting in the Empire's victory, but a heavy loss on both sides. Crowfeather, who was unaccustomed to the sudden fluidity of his schedule, spent many hours roaming the streets of his city. He visited the patients in the medical wing of his palace, sent his cooks outside to prepare meals for the hungry, and braved the darker alleys of his city. There was always a guard or two stationed by his side, but he always felt strangely at peace in the damp darkness of the roughest neighborhoods. There was something about the chaos that was familiar—he had yet to put the war behind him.

His people were ecstatic at his public appearances. Supposedly, Willowpelt was an indoors king who rarely braved the outside world. Crowfeather couldn't understand why the late king would seclude himself when his people were so excited to meet him. Children ran up to him as he toured the city, bringing small gifts like flowers or pretty stones. Before long, Crowfeather left his palace with a pocket full of caramels to thank the children who came to greet him. He was loved by his people, and with the tension of the war melting away, he was finally feeling at peace with his life.

* * *

It wasn't until a familiar face appeared at his doorstep that Crowfeather truly realized the weight of Midnight's tarot cards. Her words haunted his thoughts, but as days passed, he found it difficult to believe in the accuracy of her predictions. Rock, who continued to visit Crowfeather in his dreams, also lost authority as he continued to promise events that had yet to occur. It wasn't until  _he_  returned that Crowfeather understood how closely Starreign watched his life.

"Your Majesty!" Crowfeather stopped in his tracks, throwing a curious glance over his shoulder. An attendant stood by the staircase, flustered and breathless. "There are a group of foreigners asking for your presence." Beside the Gaian king, Torrentpelt and Hawkshade shared a look.

"A group of foreigners? Shouldn't they be with Rushtail?" The blue-eyed king frowned and waved dismissively at his attendant. "Direct them to the City of Rottam." He continued down the hallway to his meeting room.

"Sir!" Again, Crowfeather turned to face his attendant. The man dressed in green and gold looked uncomfortable. "The man leading the foreigners claims to be of inherited blood," he said. "He says that he knows you."

Crowfeather's blood chilled. It could easily be someone trying to impersonate an aristocrat, but he had met very few foreign officials who knew the difference between heritage aristocrats and inherited ones. Seeing as how that social structure was unique to the Empire, very few countries bothered to educate their ambassadors on the topic. Whoever was claiming to be an inherited aristocrat  _on the Gaian king's doorstep_  must've been familiar with the aristocratic houses and had a good reason to choose the Gaian king over the international leader.

The attendant fidgeted and glanced at Crowfeather uneasily. "Should we send them away?" he asked.

"No, bring them in." The blue-eyed king turned to address his advisors. "Tell the others that the meeting has been postponed. And tell Rowanheart and Lionpelt by these stairs." He turned to the attendant. "Show them to my office after you search them for weapons. Station guards by my office, but keep them out of sight. Return to me when they've been settled in my office." The man bowed and rushed down the stairs.

"The rafters?" Hawkshade asked quietly.

"Station a few elites. Lionpelt and Rowanheart will be by my side." Dismissed, his advisors hurried down the hall to the meeting room. Crowfeather peeked down the spiral staircase, hoping the catch a glimpse of the group of foreigners. After a few minutes, Rowanheart and Lionpelt joined him by the stairway, and the attendant motioned for them to descend. As the three of them headed down the staircase, Crowfeather could read the questions that flickered through his advisors' eyes. But his eyes mirrored theirs and each man kept his mouth shut as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Your Majesty, we couldn't fit all of them in your office, so we moved them to the ballroom."

"Thank you." Crowfeather nodded, dismissing the attendant. The man bowed before hurrying away.

"There must be more than twenty of them," Rowanheart murmured as they approached the ballroom. Crowfeather's advisors frequently joked about how his office was unnecessarily large for task of tending to his citizens' concerns, but Crowfeather had grown so accustomed to that office that stepping into the ballroom would quickly make him uncomfortable. He had only been in there during the few balls that he was expected to host, and even then he didn't spend much of his time there. What unnerved him most was the thought of being in a room with a large group of foreigners without any overhead rafters to host his elite guards. Although Rowanheart and Lionpelt's expertise in combat and weaponry eased his worries, Crowfeather was still concerned at the thought of three people restraining a crowd.

As the three of them stepped into the ballroom, Crowfeather was immediately struck by the ragged appearance of people before him. There were at least forty people standing in the middle of his ballroom, each haggard and disheveled in their own way. Men stood protectively around the women, children, and elderly of their group, forming a small circle on the floor. All conversations stopped the second that they noticed the presence of the three Emperians. Crowfeather gazed at the faces before him, trying to recognize any features of the crowd of foreigners. He knew his search was futile—even as the Gaian leader, he wasn't obligated to meet with inherited aristocrats. They rarely attended the social gatherings of heritage aristocrats and often kept to themselves.

"I am Crowfeather the Third. One of you has requested my presence." There was a question imbedded in his words and he watched as the foreigners tittered to each other. They spoke in low, husky voices—different from the smooth, silky tones Crowfeather was familiar with. They didn't sound like any foreigners that he had come across before.

"Crowfeather." The crowd parted and a man stepped towards him. Both Rowanheart and Lionpelt indiscreetly reached for their weapons as the man approached. Crowfeather eyed the man curiously—he sounded like an Emperian, but Crowfeather could hardly identify him under layers of filth and grime. "It's me—Stormfur!"

_Stormfur?_  Stormfur had disappeared years ago. How would he know of this man was lying? Crowfeather snapped his fingers and an attendant was by his side in seconds. "Bring this man a damp towel," he murmured before turning back to the filthy man. There was something familiar about those amber eyes, but Crowfeather wanted to be absolutely certain of the man's identity. "The Stormfur I knew disappeared inexplicably seven years ago." An uneasy look crossed the man's face. "But I will give you a chance to prove that you are who you say you are."

"Of course."

"Name your father and mother."

"Silverstream and Graystripe."

"What house is your father from?"

"Originally, he belongs to Herobexy. He lived with in Riverside during my childhood but eventually moved in to live with his best friend in Zephyra." The man proceeded to wipe his face with a damp towel, thanking the attendant who gave it to him. As the dirt and filth was wiped away, Crowfeather started at the man's features. He could almost see Graystripe reflected in the man's square jaw and amber eyes.

"What is your sister's name?"

"Feathertail."

"How old were you when you left the Empire?"

"Twenty-one." All of Crowfeather's questions were simple and factual. Any peasant could bring forward the same information if they searched hard enough for it. But Crowfeather had one last question to confirm the identity of the amber-eyed man in front of him.

"Sixteen years ago, my friend's sister threatened me. Who was she, what did she threaten, and why was she angry with me?" It was a tricky question to choose such an old memory, but the original story had been kept from the public. Only those who were present at the scene and had witnessed the event would be able to answer the question correctly. Crowfeather watched as the foreigners stirred, murmuring to each other uneasily.

"Leafpool, Squirrelflight's sister, threatened to hunt you down to the ends of Zendiria after you lied about the circumstances surrounding your check-up on her earlier on that same day. Squirrelflight had initially wanted to check on her sister herself, but you chose to go in her place and left the rest of us by the river."

Crowfeather felt his throat seize up as he stepped forward. The crowd behind the man flinched at his advance and Crowfeather's advisors tightened their grip on their weapons, but the amber-eyed man only smiled at the Gaian king.  _"A storm approaches the Empire. While he can bring destruction and danger, his presence can also restore peace and bring forth new beginnings."_  Midnight's words echoed through Crowfeather's mind as he wrapped his arms around the man before him.

"You're finally home," Crowfeather choked out. Stormfur's arms tightened around the blue-eyed king as he returned the embrace.

"I know." The two of them stayed together for a few moments before Crowfeather remembered where they were and drew back. "Congrats on becoming the Gaian king. Looks like you scored much higher than Head of Ebenwing," the aristocrat teased.

"Things have changed." Crowfeather offered Stormfur a small smile, but the sunny look in the aristocrat's amber eyes quickly darkened at the sound of a violent coughing fit. The crowd behind Stormfur shifted as a few people hovered over a heaving woman. She was hunched over the ground, curled up in fetal position as her body shook with each cough. A shiver ran up Crowfeather's spine as crimson blood splattered onto the ground below her. Stormfur was by her side in seconds, cooing softly at her as she gripped at his sleeves and continued to convulse.

The tension in the air eased significantly when the woman calmed down a few moments later, exhausted and dazed from her coughing fit. Stormfur looked up at Crowfeather with a tight, weary smile on his face. "Things  _have_  changed," he affirmed. An anxious expression crossed his face. "I need your help, Crowfeather. I don't know how to do this on my own."

Crowfeather's heart throbbed at the fearful expression on Stormfur's face. "What do you need?"

"A doctor." The amber-eyed aristocrat glanced at the woman in his arms. "A good one. A lot of them have already refused to treat her because of its expenses and risks, but I can't lose her." Stormfur's eyes watered as he turned his gaze back to blue-eyed king. "Not like my mother. Not like Feathertail."

Crowfeather's stomach twisted painfully at his late fiancée's name. "You knew?"

"Of course I do." A pained expression crossed Stormfur's face. "She walks in my dreams," he whispered.

"Crowfeather," Lionpelt said quietly. The blue-eyed king caught the warning tone in his advisor's voice, and by the fearful expression in Stormfur's eyes, the amber-eyed aristocrat had too. Glancing uneasily at his childhood friend, Crowfeather stepped closer to the blond.

"I need to do this," he hissed.

"There's only so much a doctor can do," Lionpelt shot back. "We can try to find a doctor in the Empire, but a lot of doctors are reluctant to treat Redlung." He looked at the crowd of foreigners with a wistful glimmer in his eyes. "My brother died because nobody wanted to treat him. Even though it's difficult to transmit Redlung, it's still a terrifying disease. Nobody wants to face the complications of failed treatment."

"Then find me the best doctors in the Empire  _and_  Ancansura." Crowfeather's eyes flashed at his advisor. "You've lost your brother and now he's losing someone too. If we can't have anyone treat her locally, then we'll find someone  _internationally_  to do it for us."

Lionpelt blinked. "Yes sir. Should I request Larkwing and Rushtail's assistance in your search?"

"Contact King August as well." It was a risky maneuver to bring the Ancansuran king into the mix, but Crowfeather would need all the connections he could get to find a doctor willing to treat Redlung. Although he had never known anyone to contract the disease, he faintly remembered having conversations with Barkface on the subject of the patients the Ebenwing doctor had had to turn away.

Lionpelt nodded and quickly left the room. Crowfeather turned back to Stormfur and gave him a firm smile. "Thank you," the amber-eyed aristocrat breathed. "Thank you so much, Crowfeather—"

The blue-eyed king silenced him with a wave of his hand. "Let's get you settled in first." He snapped his fingers and another attendant was by his side in seconds. There was something peculiar but convenient about the number of attendants who waited close by for orders, and Crowfeather had quickly gotten accustomed to snapping his fingers whenever he had a request. "I'd like you to take these guests to the guest manor," he said. The guest manor was a fairly large building a little ways off. Rowanheart had forgotten to show Crowfeather in his excitement over a new Gaian king, but the blue-eyed king had eventually learned of the manor's existence. "Stormfur, I'd like to talk to you as soon as you're fixed up. Ask one of my attendants to take you to my council room."

The group of foreigners bowed to Crowfeather before being led out of the ballroom. Stormfur squeezed Crowfeather's shoulder before following them out. "Are Torrentpelt and the others still in the council room?"

"I think so," Rowanheart said, a wary glimmer in his eye. "Might I suggest we have someone standing guard outside during our meeting?" Crowfeather nodded—the information discussed in their meetings often were government secrets or were regarding classified information. Although he trusted Stormfur dearly, his first obligation was to the Empire and he couldn't afford to have anyone eavesdropping.

"If we don't finish the meeting before Stormfur arrives, I'll be expecting you and the others to visit me in my chambers," Crowfeather said before heading for the council room.

* * *

As expected, their discussion hadn't concluded by the time that Stormfur was finished with his bath. After deciding that they were to meet in Crowfeather's chambers after dinner, the meeting was adjourned and Stormfur greeted the blue-eyed king in the hallway. Crowfeather smiled at the sight of the amber-eyed aristocrat—he seemed to become rejuvenated after bathing and changing into new clothes.

"I never thought I'd miss silk as much as I did," Stormfur joked, picking at his sleeve. His amber eyes twinkled at Crowfeather. "Are you planning to spoil me with silk blankets or does everyone in this palace live with a silver spoon in hand?"

"Our staff is much happier than most," the blue-eyed king said. A nostalgic smile tugged at his lips. "I've always loved the relationship that Squirrelflight and her family had with their servants. I've tried to embody the same atmosphere here, but I'm no Sandstorm. If only I could convince their staff to work for me!" The two of them laughed as they headed for Crowfeather's chambers before settling into a comfortable silence. Stormfur nodded to the guards posted at Crowfeather's door as the blue-eyed king stepped into his living room.

Bemused, Crowfeather watched as Stormfur took in the richness of the fabric and furniture that decorated the chambers. After a few minutes, the amber-eyed aristocrat gave Crowfeather a weary and wistful smile. "Things really have changed, haven't they?" he whispered.

"That's how the world works," Crowfeather replied, settling down into an armchair. He gestured to the sofa in front of him and Stormfur quickly sunk into the plush cushions. "You left and then Feathertail left, and now Leafpool's gone too."

"Leafpool's gone?"

"Disappeared just like you did." Crowfeather crossed his legs. "Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw got married four years ago, Cinderpelt's pregnant and married, and the House of Ebenwing has completely collapsed." He pointed to himself. "And this person right here became Gaian king. I didn't even want to be head of Ebenwing," he admitted. "But here I am as one of the most powerful people in the Empire…" He smiled bitterly. "How aggravating. I gave up on power but it follows me everywhere."

"Same here." Stormfur leaned back into the sofa. "I knew from the start that I wouldn't qualify to be head of Riverside because of, well, you know." His father and his mother, his label as an inherited aristocrat, and the antagonism he faced in his aristocratic home made his chances of becoming head miniscule and nearly-nonexistent. Crowfeather nodded and the amber-eyed aristocrat continued. "But now I'm at the same level of authority as the Teller in the Rushing Water Tribe and everyone turned to me when Brook got sick…" He shook his head and gave Crowfeather an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I should start at the beginning."

"Whatever you think is best."

Stormfur studied him for a few moments before a small smile graced his lips. "You really have changed, haven't you?" he whispered thoughtfully. Crowfeather raised an eyebrow at him, but the amber-eyed aristocrat changed the topic. "My disappearance wasn't because I wanted to run away. I wanted to get out of Crookedstar's jurisdiction—I wanted to have some freedom in my life." Crowfeather nodded slowly—it was the same frustration that Feathertail had described in her last letter to him. "So I crossed over into Mirviran and that's where I met the Rushing Water Tribe.

"I fell in love with Brook, the woman from earlier. I was going to come back and tell my father about what had happened, but then the war started." A haunted look crossed Stormfur's face. "The Rushing Water Tribe lived in the mountains, but every once in a while they would go into the valley to trade. A few of our traders went down…but they never came back. After a few weeks, a family from the valley came to us for refuge. They said that the Mirviran army was forcing whoever they could find into the army regardless of whether they were interested or not. I couldn't risk being caught by the army, so I stayed with the Tribe. Unfortunately, at the same time, the war started, the Tribe's Teller—he's sort of like our three leaders—passed away. Brook's brother became the new Teller and we relocated further into the mountains to evade the incoming Mirviran scouts.

"I tried convincing everyone to come with me to the Empire. I told them that they would be safe there—I knew that someone would at least try to help them." Stormfur laced his fingers together. "But the fact that Mirviran was at war with the Empire made my argument less persuasive and then Brook caught Redlung. Nobody would give us treatment, even though she was in the early stages. It was only a few months ago when Teller finally asked me to take the Tribe to the Empire." He smiled faintly at Crowfeather. "We had to sneak into Whemira before we could enter the Empire. While we were gathering supplies and rations, I overheard that you had become the Gaian king."

"And that's why you're here," Crowfeather murmured.

"Yes." Stormfur's eyes darkened. "I don't mean to take advantage of our friendship, but I need help, Crowfeather. I can't abandon the Tribe and I can't let Brook die." He straightened in his seat. "All I ask is that you find us a doctor. I can ask Firestar or Crookedstar for a place to stay, but they don't have the same connections as you do."

"You are aware of what you're asking me, aren't you?" Crowfeather asked coolly. "The Empire's economy is still recovering after that war and we're already making plans to direct money into funding new areas of study. I can't provide a doctor for free."

"I'll find work," Stormfur said. "I'll do anything you want me to."

"Anything?" Crowfeather's eyes narrowed at the gray-haired aristocrat.

"Anything."

"Alright then." Crowfeather shifted in his seat and leaned forward. "I want you to join the House of Zephyra. Graystripe and Firestar will most likely be willing to accommodate for you. Crookedstar has recently given his position as head of Riverside to Mistyfoot, and I can't guarantee that she'll provide you with refuge. I will distribute land to the Rushing Water Tribe and I will expect you to not only build the second Zephyra manor on that plot, but also to create a knighting academy."

"I thought only three houses had knight academies."

"The council met a few weeks ago and decided that it was time for every house to facilitate a knight academy. Firestar already has enough work as head of Zephyra, so you'll be doing him a favor by running the academy for him." Crowfeather fixed him with a stern look. "Your tribesmen will not be aristocrats. They are not to consider themselves aristocratic or refer to themselves as such. They will be living in your manor, but they will mainly be working in the knight academy. Consider them to have the same privileges as your former tutors, but make sure that they understand that they are not your servants."

"Of course."

Crowfeather's gaze softened. "I'll do my best to find a doctor for your wife, Stormfur," he murmured. "I have my advisors searching through the Empire and I've already made arrangements to ask King August to scour Ancansura for willing doctors. In the meantime, you and your family will be situated in this palace and the rest of your tribesmen will be moved to Zephyra. Have you met with Firestar and Graystripe?"

"No," Stormfur admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Visiting me before your father? I'm flattered," Crowfeather chuckled. "I'll go with you tomorrow and explain the situation at hand. Does the Tribe speak our language?"

"Only Brook and a few others are fluent, but the others understand it well enough."

"Good. They'll be situated soon." A knock caught his attention before the door to his living room was pushed open.

"Your Majesty, dinner is ready." Ashtail nodded to Stormfur. "Your tribesmen are already settled, but they don't seem comfortable eating without you."

The amber-eyed aristocrat's cheeks flushed. "I should be going then," he mumbled, rising to his feet. He bowed to Crowfeather. "Thank you again."

"Stop that," the blue-eyed king said, standing. "I may be your king, but I'm still your friend." He nudged him toward the door. "Now go downstairs before your tribesmen starve. I'll be right behind you." Stormfur smiled before exiting the room, his footsteps fading away in the distance. Crowfeather turned to Ashtail.

"You two seem to be old friends," the elderly advisor murmured.

"We've known each other since we were children. Do you have an update?"

"Yes. We've sent out messengers to ask doctors for their services. Lilystorm has a template for your letter to King August and we're making arrangements for the Tribe in the guest manor."

"No need." Crowfeather waved dismissively. "I'll be seeing them to Zephyra tomorrow morning."

"Yes sir." Ashtail stepped towards the door. "We'll have your list of doctors ready within a week, given that King August takes to your letter quickly. In the meantime, I suggest you go to dinner. The tribesmen seem quite reluctant to eat before the Gaian King."

 


	19. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Crowfeather and his council scour not only the Empire but Ancansura for licensed doctors, conflict erupts in both the House of Zephyra and the House of Herobexy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who kudoed/commented! I was actually afraid that because I hadn't updated in a long time, there would be no one still reading this story. However, I am flattered to know that people still keep tabs on this story and want to read more!
> 
> Finals are coming around, so it's likely that I won't be posting until after finals are over. I can't promise that I'll have a set updating schedule, but I'll definitely try my best after finals to post as many as I can before I have to go back to college.
> 
> PLEASE CHECK THE BOTTOM FOR FOOTNOTES! FOOTNOTES ARE STARRED WITH ASTERISKS! ****

Third Person – Crowfeather

"We've had an overwhelming number of medical students and doctors offer their services over the course of the last ten days," Torrentpelt said, shuffling a handful of documents. He stopped in front of Crowfeather and slapped them across his desk, frowning distastefully at the fluttering papers. "Most of whom are unlicensed or have yet to prove themselves worthy of their profession. Many of them are inexperienced with anything beyond the common cold and the occasional poison ivy rash, and the few eligible doctors we need are either tending to personal matters or have no interest in treating Ms. Brook."

Crowfeather leaned back and took a deep breath. Cinderpelt was out of service due to her pregnancy, Barkface hadn't studied Redlung treatment, and the other house doctors refused to leave their positions to visit. Torrentpelt had explained that medical community was facing a stressing predicament where they had a limited number of house doctor positions and too many unemployed doctors. With the medical community in disarray, house doctors in a paranoid frenzy, and Cinderpelt tending to her new family, there was no qualified doctor available in the Empire. Their hope had to lie in Ancansura.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Crowfeather looked at Torrentpelt. "Has King August replied yet?"

"Amazingly," the black-haired advisor said. "His advisory board has generated a list of doctors, but their strengths and weaknesses are not listed." His golden eyes narrowed as he scanned through the papers. "As usual, it doesn't seem as if he's actually taken the time to research these doctors himself." King August was known as kind and passive king, and his reputation for procrastinating made him a laughingstock in the political world. Regardless, Crowfeather felt honored that the Ancansuran king respected him enough to collect so much data in a short period of time, but Torrentpelt seemed more upset with its quality than its quantity.

"Preposterous!" The black-haired advisor scowled at the papers. "Half of these doctors lack proper education and some of them are even titled 'shaman'!" Crowfeather snorted and Torrentpelt threw the letters at him with a huff. "I suppose that's the best we can get from a hastily-gathered report. If it didn't take three days to cross between Ancansura and the City of Evermore, I wouldn't have overlooked it."

"Well, you're far from under-looking it," Lilystorm chuckled. Her amber eyes twinkled with laughter. "I've taken the liberty of exploring Ancansura for the past few days. I've managed to gather some information on the doctors living closest to our shared border."

"Almost a leisure trip, if you ask me," Torrentpelt muttered. She grinned slyly at him.

"You could've joined me, if you wanted to." The black-haired advisor flushed crimson and Crowfeather raised an eyebrow at his reaction. Torrentpelt opened his mouth before snapping it shut, his ears turning red from embarrassment as he turned away. Lilystorm smiled innocently at Crowfeather and tucked a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. "Ancansura is famous for having a small number of highly-prized doctors. Life in a heavily crowded urban area where traders and merchants come in waves means that the chances of catching a disease or transmitting an infection are sky-high. The doctors in Ancansura are highly prized because of their few numbers, but they're very hostile to incoming medical students. They don't want any competition even though they often have more patients than they can find time to treat." She flipped a page. "The limited number of well-known doctors make their prices expensive an unaffordable for many middle-class civilians."

"Are any of their doctors within budget?"

"We have no budget," Lilystorm said. "We only have responsibility and honor*." She smiled at Crowfeather's confusion. "If you're concerned about affordability, I'm told that there is a very successful doctor just a few hours away from our shared border. Though I wasn't able to visit her myself, I was told that she is very generous when it comes to payments and she often accepts food in exchange for her services."

"Which is unheard of in this day in age," Torrentpelt quipped.

"Her policies sound ridiculous, but they're definitely true. My sources tell me that she's lived in that village for the past six years and she shows no intentions of leaving. A fake doctor would've fled after demanding early payments."

"Then I suppose that's our doctor," Crowfeather said. He stood and stretched, humming as he popped his back. "Make some arrangements for a visit. I plan to meet this doctor myself."

"Crowfeather the Third going out of his way to meet with a village doctor? She's a very lucky woman," Lilystorm teased. "Most women would die for your attention."

"Don't give them any ideas," Torrentpelt said as he followed Crowfeather and Lilystorm to the door. "There have been enough cases of women claiming to carry his son."

"All of two accounts!" She nudged the blue-eyed king playfully. "You know, he'd much rather spread rumors about you being in a homosexual relationship with Rowanheart than deal with accusatory aristocrats."

"Absolutely," Torrentpelt huffed. "There'd be much less paperwork involved." He smiled apologetically to Crowfeather as Lilystorm laughed. The dark-haired king rolled his eyes and glared half-heartedly at his golden-eyed advisor as they left the council room.

* * *

Third Person - Tawnypelt

There was an uncomfortable tension that hung over the dining table, and the two responsible made her head ache. After a silent breakfast, Tawnypelt watched as the other aristocrats left the dining hall after casting a few concerned glances in the lovers' direction. After a few tense moments, Squirrelflight rose from her seat and stepped into the kitchen, dishes and silverware in hand. Tawnypelt glanced at her brother, who had yet to take a bite of his breakfast. The dark-haired man pushed his egg across the surface of his plate, his meal untouched as he poked at his food.

Quickly making her mind, Tawnypelt grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the hallway, smiling innocently at a passing servant as pulled her brother along. She settled under the shade of the forest. She pulled him into the backyard and relocated them in the shade of a few oak trees, hidden from the eyes of curious passersby. Crossing her arms, she fixed him with a pointed look and raised her chin. "What in Starreign's name is going on, Brambleclaw?"

"It's nothing, Tawny." The dark-haired man looked away.

"Nothing? You haven't touched your breakfast, you've made no move to visit Stormfur even though we haven't seen him for seven years, and you haven't looked at Squirrelflight at all! Don't you dare tell me I'm blind, Brambleclaw, or do I have to remind you that  _I'm_  the one who told you that you loved Squirrelflight?"

"Tawny."

"Don't you  _Tawny_ me. Tell me what's going on." The frustration in her eyes shifted into bitterness. "I'm your  _sister_ , Bramble. Don't I deserve to know?" He gazed at her, a storm of emotions flickering across his face before he gave in.

"It's been six years and Squirrelflight and I haven't had a child. I can't say I'm not disappointed, but Squirrelflight seems convinced that it's all her fault and now she won't even talk to me." His shoulder sagged and his eyes glowed with frustration. "I can't believe she doesn't trust me when I say that it's alright. It's like she's obsessed with it now! She won't say a word to Cinderpelt, but she spends all day touching and petting her stomach. She keeps singing about blue jays and holly leaves, and she keeps leaving little poems about a haunted spotted tree." Brambleclaw crossed his arms and kicked at the ground. "I'm trying to help her, Tawny, but I don't know what to do anymore."

Tawnypelt stared at her brother, stunned by the uncertainty in his eyes. Brambleclaw had always been the more cautious one and was confident with the decisions he made. But now he looked lost now, almost a mirror of the broken boy that had stood by her side the day their father was found to be a murderer. Although she felt a flicker of rage towards Squirrelflight's treatment of her brother, her heart clenched at the idea of the redhead curled up in the corner of the library, singing and mumbling as she scribbled on scraps of paper. Tawnypelt thought of how pale and ragged the aristocrat had been at breakfast, and how she had only taken a few bites of her meal before returning it to the kitchen.

As much as she loved and cared for her brother, she wasn't going to blind herself with the blood that flowed between them. There was something larger at play, something threatening the world she lived in and the people she loved. Brambleclaw was too caught up to see the big picture, but Tawnypelt knew Squirrelflight wouldn't act that way without a reason. She saw the longing, the guilt and the pain that flashed across the aristocrat's face when Brambleclaw entered the room. There had to be a miscommunication—but the two were too stubborn to admit it.

"Don't give up on her." Brambleclaw started at his sister's words, but she stood firm. "Don't give up on her, Bramble. She wouldn't act this way unless something was wrong."

"I know that," the dark-haired man choked out. "Of course I'd know that."

"Then why won't you give her a chance?"

A bitter expression crossed Brambleclaw's face. "There's only so much a man can give."

* * *

Third Person – Crowfeather

It had taken them nearly two days to reach the village of Bluepeak, especially since their trip had roused some chatter from the people of the Empire. When they had finally crossed the Emperian-Ancansuran border, Crowfeather had relaxed, his head throbbing from the noisy civilians that had flanked his carriage as he passed through their cities. Beside him, Lionpelt kept a golden eye trained on the door, his hand resting on the handle of his pistol. The blue-eyed king could hear Rowanheart chatting away to the coachman in front, undoubtedly easing the strain of boredom that accompanied long-distance travel. Lulled by the gentle rumbling of wheels over slightly-uneven roads, Crowfeather dozed and fell into a light sleep.

It wasn't until the carriage rolled to a stop that Crowfeather opened his eyes. There was a polite knock on the door before it was opened and Rowanheart poked his head in. "We've arrived, Sleeping Beauty," he teased. The blue-eyed man gave him a half-hearted glare before climbing out of the coach, Lionpelt close behind. As he brushed off his clothes, Crowfeather ran over the information that Russetcloud had handed him just before he left.

The village of Bluepeak was small and well-organized—and with a population of about fifty, it was one of the smallest in Ancansura. Not to mention that, but the flow of wealth in the area was miniscule and circular, often shared between the same people without introducing or losing any more. Although it was close to the Emperian-Ancansuran border, it wasn't a popular trading route and most merchants chose to avoid it mainly because of the swamp rested on the outskirts of the village. Swamps were effective at ruining goods—bugs swarmed and destroyed fabrics while high humidity ruined furs.

"It's a beautiful village," Rowanheart mused, stretching leisurely. "The swamp is beautiful, the air is clean—" he brushed off a curious dragonfly. "Well, aside from all the insects, I suppose." Lionpelt rolled his eyes and ignored the redhead's glare.

"Your Majesty, I will be waiting for you here." The coachman bowed to Crowfeather and the blue-eyed king waved at him in dismissal. Crowfeather and his advisors headed for the village path, taking in the sights and sounds of the countryside.

It was the first time that Crowfeather had ever visited such a rural, agrarian-based community. He watched as a few village children chased a flustered chicken along the road and a man lead a weathered horse into the fields. The world he was accustomed to was filled with luxury, with unplowed acres of forest and land that were meant to gather game as opposed to crops. But by the wistful expression in Lionpelt's eyes, it was undoubtable that the golden-haired advisor was familiar with the land.

At this point, many of the villagers had taken notice of their presence. Crowfeather could feel their eyes running over him, taking in his thick riding cloak and his polished boots. They studied his confident stride, the tilt of his head, and the way he carried himself into their village. He was an outsider, but the air around the villagers had yet to turn hostile. Instead, it lingered overhead as curiosity as more people turned to watch him pass through. He saw their eyes straying over to Lionpelt and Rowanheart, who were still drinking in the sights of the village. Suddenly uncomfortable under all the curious eyes, Crowfeather turned to speak to his advisors.

"Excuse me, but are you looking for Bluepeak Clinic?" Startled, the blue-eyed king turned to see a brown-eyed man standing close by. The man had a pleasant smile on his face, his skin sun-kissed and golden.

"Yes, do you mind giving us directions?" It was startling how the villager knew exactly what they were looking for, but assuming that the doctor's reputation matched Lilystorm's report, the villagers were accustomed to having visitors.

"Just keep walking down this path and keep to your right. It's a beautiful tan house with a large patio. You should see a horse nearby." The man tipped his hat to Crowfeather before walking along, humming a low tune under his breath. The blue-eyed king glanced at his advisors before following the man's instructions.

"The literacy rate seems to be rather high," he mused, overhearing the well-versed words shared between chatting neighbors.

"Speech-wise, that is," Rowanheart replied. "I hear their tongue is well practiced, but their literary skills are lacking." The trio continued, stopping only when Crowfeather spotted a large home to his right. There were clotheslines strung across the property, with bedding and sheets drying out in the sun. On the porch, a chestnut horse dozed by a rocking chair. Its ears perked at the sound of Crowfeather's footsteps and it snorted softly. The blue-eyed king frowned at it—it was undoubtedly a thoroughbred, with its high crest and long neck. What was it doing in a village of commoners?

Lionpelt took a step towards the home, but the dark-haired king raised a hand to stop him. Cautiously, he approached the horse, leveling his eyes with its dark gaze. Reaching out a hand, Crowfeather waited for the horse's reaction. The steed sniffed his palm before pressing its nose into the hand, huffing softly. "Could it be?" he whispered as he gently touched the horse's jaw and lifted its head.

His heart nearly stopped at the sight of a star-shaped white patch under its chin. He remembered riding alongside this horse, seeing the muscles under his chestnut coat pulsing with each step. He remembered seeing a glimpse of white whenever the stallion tossed his head after a good run and the slender hand that petted that spot as he rested under the trees. This was Varnish. This was  _her_  horse.

Crowfeather's head whipped around and he stared into the windows of the large house. Inside, he could see futons pressed against the walls and patients swaddled up in thick blankets. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he searched the living room, desperately seeking out the face he could never bring himself to forget—

And there she was. Kneeling beside a bandaged patient, her smile was graced with the tenderness of moonlight and the radiance of the sun. Her hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulder, glowing auburn, gold, and brown. Her amber eyes sparkled with kindness and laughter as she tended to her patient, checking his bandages and wiping his face with a towel. When she was finished, she rose, and Crowfeather's heart went into overdrive. Part of him wanted her to look up, to see him, but the other half desperately wanted to hide, to run away and never return. Before he could react, however, a gray-haired boy appeared and leapt into her arms. Laughing, she cradled the child to her and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

A black-haired man approached her, smiling sheepishly as he stepped closer. She turned to look at him, a gentle smile on her face. As Crowfeather watched her turn to face the newcomer, his heart froze over and crumpled in on itself. There was an air around them that screamed intimacy, and the blue-eyed king quickly put two-and-two together. That man was her husband, and the boy in her arms was their child. Crowfeather felt his throat tighten as he watched the two of them talk, seemingly lost in their world as Crowfeather drowned in his own.

 _I'm such a fool_ , he thought as he took a staggering step back. Beside him, Varnish whinnied softly.  _I should've told her that I loved her when I had the chance._  What was the point now? He couldn't face her—he would never let go over her if he did.  _I have to leave_ , he thought as he turned back to face his men. "We're leav—"

A tug on his cloak tore his attention away. Startled, the blue-eyed man looked down to see a wide-eyed, amber-haired child staring up at him. His eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully before a bright smile split across his face. Wrapping his hands around Crowfeather's, he began to pull the Gaian King into the building. "Mama!" he called. "There's someone here to see you!"

Crowfeather threw a horrified look to his advisors, whose surprised and amused expressions quickly faded into concern. The blue-eyed king held his breath as the brunette turned away from her black-haired companion to face him. The pleasant smile on her face quickly faded into shock, and Crowfeather felt his heart clench at the fear in her eyes. He never should've come.

"Mama, he was standing outside by the window!" The amber-haired child released Crowfeather's hand and bounded over to her side. She glanced at her son before lifting her amber eyes to meet Crowfeather's. He felt his ears heat up under her gaze, but her expression chilled him to the bone. She looked cornered and terrified, her posture protective as she wrapped her arms around her sons. Beside her, the black-haired man tensed and lifted his chin at Crowfeather, instinctively issuing a challenge to the blue-eyed king.

The amber-haired child glanced uncertainly at his mother. "Mama? Do you know him?"

Crowfeather could feel everyone's eyes smother him as all activity in the room slowed to a stop. Everyone was waiting to hear what she had to say, and even the proximity of his advisors couldn't ease the tension that strained Crowfeather's senses. The silence was drowning him.

"Well Leafpool?" His voice was scratchy and alien to his ears, but he continued anyways. "Do you know me?" She stiffened at his words, an indescribable emotion filling her eyes. His heart clenched at the sight of them, the amber fire burning through his veins like a drug. His pulse quickened and all he could hear was the beating of his heart.

"I knew you very well, Crowfeather." His throat closed up at her words. Were they alien to each other now? Were they no more than strangers again? Had they gone back to the time before that night, when the air betrayed the storm that brewed within the house of Zephyra? "What are you doing here? I'm sure there are enough doctors in the Empire to tend to your every whim." Crowfeather flinched and a flicker of guilt flashed through Leafpool's eyes before a stern look of stubbornness swallowed it. He felt the walls to his heart rise again, slow and heavy as they stood to guard the spot that had been laid bare for years.

"There are plenty of doctors in the Empire," Crowfeather replied coldly. Now it was her turn to recoil, his words cutting her like a knife. "But it seems that your credentials make you the best doctor that Ancansura and the Empire have to offer."

Leafpool stiffened and raised her eyes to Crowfeather's. "There are enough doctors in the Empire," she repeated.

A jolt of rage race up his spine. "I thought Littlecloud taught you to never deny your services to anyone. I never thought you'd abandon his teachings so quickly." Her eyes widened and the black-haired man at her side took a threatening step forward.

"What gives you the right to speak to her like that?" he snapped, advancing with a growl.

"Blackfrost!" Leafpool turned to face him, but a flash of gold overtook her and Lionpelt had the black-haired man pinned to the ground. Rowanheart stepped forward protectively and Crowfeather stared as his golden-haired advisor held a dagger to the villager's throat.

"Be careful how you speak," Lionpelt rumbled. "Have you no respect for a king?" Crowfeather stiffened as collective gasps rose into the air and patients strained to catch a glimpse of his face. This was the first time that his rank had ever been used to defend him—his position in the Empire made him a well-known figure even amongst the most socially distant. Rage churned inside of him at the thought of hiding behind his title.

"Stand down, Lionpelt." When the advisor didn't move, Crowfeather's voice turned icy. "I said,  _stand down_." The golden-haired man shuddered and withdrew, shooting the blue-eyed king a flustered and reluctant glance. Crowfeather ignored him and kept his eyes trained on Leafpool. "It's not my intention to insult either of you," he said coolly. "The reason why I came is because Stormfur has returned to the Empire."

The brunette blinked at him. "I suppose you're not here to ask for my welcomes."

"His wife has Redlung. I ask that you come to the Empire to treat her."

Leafpool's eyes turned hard. "I don't see why you can't bring her to me. I can treat her at my clinic."

"She's too weak to travel." He had confirmed it himself—Brook had doubled over when Stormfur had tried to take her for a walk through the gardens. She was hardly in a condition to make a two-day trip to another country. His voice dropped when she failed to reply. "Please, Leafpool. I wouldn't ask you to come unless it was absolutely necessary."

"She's not going," Blackfrost said. Leafpool's eyes flashed at him, but he continued anyway. "We have enough patients here. Go and find your own doctor."

"Blackfrost!" Her voice was sharp and cold. "You may leave." When the blue-eyed villager turned to her in disbelief, she raised her voice. " _You may leave._ " Anger flickered through the man's eyes and he turned on Crowfeather.

"What gives you the right to do this?" he shouted. Crowfeather threw an arm out to the side when he felt Lionpelt tense beside him.

Crowfeather studied the man before turning his gaze to Leafpool. She looked threatened and wary, but there was a glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes. He could pull her rank on her, her obligations to the Empire as an aristocrat. But that would be cruel, and she would likely refuse to treat Brook if he did so. While his mind fought to find a solution to his predicament, his body moved on its own.

Gasps rose into the air as he fell to his knees before her and rested his forehead against his hands. "I beg you," he rasped. "Please come to the Empire and treat Brook. This is all I ask of you. When you are finished, I will make sure that you return to this village with a large sum of money for your services."

"Crowfeather." Leafpool's voice was broken and he felt his throat tighten up as he held his position. It was absolutely humiliating to be prostrating himself before anyone, but he would swallow his pride any day for Stormfur. For Brook. "Crowfeather, please stand up."

"Please come back to the Empire."

"Crowfeather!" Her voice shook, but he remained on the floor.

"Please. For Stormfur."  _For me_ , a small voice in his head pleaded. Crowfeather raised a fist to crush the voice, but quietly withdrew his hand when it spoke again.  _For me. Please, please—just for me._

Leafpool's response was quiet. "Yes. I'll go back for Stormfur." Crowfeather closed his eyes, feeling a wave of relief and gratitude wash over him. Leafpool knelt, her eyes damp as she reached for his hand. Her touch sent electricity up his spine, but he forced his expression to stay neutral as he returned to an upright position. "Just give me today to pack. I'll be done in a few hours."

He bowed his head. "Of course."

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

She couldn't believe her ears when Blackfrost announced that he would accompany Leafpool to the Empire. With Silvermist tagging along to care for the children, she had expected Blackfrost to stay behind and run the clinic in her absence. Although there were no patients in critical condition, she was reluctant to place those in treatment on hold. In addition to that, it was obvious that Crowfeather's golden-haired companion disliked the blue-eyed villager and had gone as far as to position himself between Blackfrost and the dark-haired king.

"I need to make sure that you can return," he said. "I can't just take his word for it." He loaded his own luggage onto Crowfeather's carriage and had seated himself in the coach as Leafpool tried to reason with him. After realizing that arguing was futile, Leafpool apologized to Crowfeather, who waved her off without a word. Within a few hours, their luggage was loaded and seating arrangements were made. Varnish had grown patient over the years, so Rowanheart, the redheaded advisor, sat astride him, hovering protectively around the coach. Lionpelt reluctantly joined the coachman at the front of the carriage and everyone else squeezed into the back.

Silvermist and Leafpool settled down with the children in their laps—Lionblaze seated on Silvermist and Hollyleaf and Jayfeather leaning against their mother. Blackfrost and Crowfeather took the other bench, the blue-eyed king ignoring the glares the villager directed at him. The two sat on opposite ends, working hard to avoid physical contact as the carriage began to move. The gentle rocking movements soothed most of the carriage's inhabitants into a light sleep, and the brunette felt her shoulders relax as the afternoon sun warmed her body.

She couldn't explain how terrified she had been when Lionblaze dragged Crowfeather into her clinic. She had been convinced that she would never see anyone from her past again, and to see him of all people stunned her. He was different than what she had remembered. Lanky and slender, he stood tall, his cold blue eyes framed by his dark gray hair. His jaw was firmer now, his shoulders broader and the air around him was filled with a cool confidence. He radiated power, and the way he carried himself made it clear he was aware of his influence.

Her heart had stopped when he had bowed. She could hardly believe that the boy of her memories—the proud, haughty, and independent child—had become submissive before her. And when he lifted his eyes to meet hers, there was a fire that blazed in them—simultaneously chilling and setting her aflame. They were the same eyes from the day he had broken off his engagement with Feathertail. Shivering, her eyes slipped closed as her mind sought for the memory of the emotion that flickered across his face.

"What are their names?" Leafpool jolted out of her daze, blinking blearily at the dark-haired man across from her. She glanced down at her children, grateful that that they were still sleeping.

"This one's Jayfeather," she murmured, nodding to the gray-haired child in her lap. "And that one's Hollyleaf." The black-haired girl had moved away from her mother and curled up in the space between Leafpool and Silvermist. "And that's Lionblaze." The amber-haired boy had his head tucked into the crook of Silvermist's neck, the light sound of his breathing filling their corner. Crowfeather's lips lifted in a smile and he gazed tenderly at them.

"They're beautiful."

 _Their yours_ , Leafpool thought, staring at her hands.

"Congratulations on your marriage."

"Marriage?" She frowned at him. "I'm not married."

Crowfeather's eyebrows furrowed together. "But I thought…"

Her eyes widened. "Oh, nonononono! I'm not married to Blackfrost! He only works for me as my apprentice. He's just overprotective," she lied.

The blue-eyed king stared at her for a few seconds before a slow smile crossed his face. "You haven't changed," he whispered. Leafpool felt her cheeks flush at the tender emotion in his eyes and blushed harder when she remembered what he was referring to**. His gaze grew distant. "The years have been kind to you. I only wish I were there to spend them with you."

The back of her neck grew hot. "You've become quite a smooth talker," she murmured, diverting her eyes.

He smiled sheepishly at her. "Occupational necessity. Diplomatic affairs are much easier when you know what to say." He nodded to the window. "And blame this fool right here. He's made me a much more sociable person." Leafpool glanced out the window and smiled when Rowanheart waved at her. A comfortable silence hung over the two of them, but broke when Crowfeather said, "Jayfeather had a hard time getting into this carriage."

"He's blind," Leafpool said. The blue-eyed king started, but she cut him off before he could apologize. "It's alright. He's gotten over the most of it. His hearing and sense of smell are impeccable."

"That's good." Crowfeather nodded and looked out the window. Feeling that the conversation had ended on its own, Leafpool folded her hands and cradled Jayfeather closer to her chest. The gray-haired boy stirred for a minute, but quickly slipped back into sleep with a soft murmur. Her heart grew heavy at the thought of returning to the Empire, but there was little she could do to turn back now.

* * *

The garden was quiet and as beautiful as she remembered it. Willowpelt held annual balls at his palace before his sickness took the better of him, and all the aristocratic houses were invited. While Squirrelflight would race away to greet her friends, Leafpool usually hovered by Cinderpelt and her colleagues or went in search of Mothwing. It was only until the later balls that she spent time exploring the gardens, when her golden-haired friend was busy juggling the responsibilities of her new role as Riverside's doctor.

Her fourteenth ball was the one she remembered most***. Mothwing stood by Mudfur's elbow the entire night, greeting doctors in the medical community to gain support to succeed her mentor. Leafpool stood in the corner of the ballroom, sipping at her drink and watching the dancers go by. Occasionally she'd catch sight of her parents, flushed and laughing as they twirled and spun across the floor. She'd laugh along with them, and warmth filled her at the sight of them together. After an hour or so of standing, Leafpool slipped out of the ballroom and into the gardens, nodding to the servants she passed.

They looked like something out of a fairytale. Flowers bloomed left and right, the scent of honeysuckle and magnolia was in the air, and the petals that kissed her cheeks were softer than silk. The marble statue of Birchsong the Third gleamed in the evening light, a warm glow settling over him as the setting sun prepared for night. The world around her was fantastical, magical, and breathtakingly pure. Her heart beat with the pulse of the earth. Her blood sang the song of the wind. Her tongue spoke the language of the waters. Everything was connected.

That was where Crowfeather had found her. The blue-eyed teenager had muttered something about the ballroom being too crowded, but Leafpool suspected that Feathertail had been swept away by another dancer. They could faintly hear the music trickling through the windows and it wasn't long before Crowfeather asked for a dance, red-faced and uncertain. She had nearly burst out laughing on the spot—his lack of confidence was alien to her, but his shyness was endearing. So she curtseyed and took his hand, dancing to a hymn that the wind whistled in her ears. Amazingly, he seemed to know the same tune as he matched her every step, and the two giggled whenever they stepped on each other's toes.

Leafpool closed her eyes and took in the scents of the garden. It had been ten years ago when she had danced with Crowfeather. The trees bore silent witness to their dance, but the flowers that had bloomed so sweetly had faded without a word. Time had passed and the world had changed. Yet somehow, the garden continued on as a timeless entity, a reminder of the past, so to speak.

It had been a day since they arrived at the City of Evermore, and it was nearly sundown by the time they unloaded the carriage. Crowfeather quickly summoned a few servants to show Leafpool and the others to their rooms before disappearing for the remainder of the night. The next day, Rowanheart decided to take Silvermist, Blackfrost, and the children for a tour of the palace and informed Leafpool that she was needed in the gardens. He didn't provide any specifics and quickly whisked everyone away before she had a chance to ask. She could only wait, so she sat by Birchsong's fountain and dozed in the morning sun.

"Leafpool?" Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes flew open at the sound of her father's voice. His emerald eyes shone with unshed tears. "Is that really you?" he whispered. Beside him, Sandstorm stared at her daughter, a smile pulling at her lips as she took in the brunette's appearance.

"Father," Leafpool croaked. " _Papa****._ " Before she knew, she was enveloped in his arms, hugged tightly against his body as she cried. He stroked her hair, his tears dampening her temple as he tucked her into the crook of his neck. Breaking away, he cooed at her, cupping her face as he pressed kiss after kiss onto her forehead. He didn't move until Sandstorm nudged him aside and he reluctantly stepped away so she could hug her daughter.

"Seven years, Leafy," Sandstorm whispered, rubbing her back. "Welcome home."

"I'm home," the brunette choked out. "Oh thank Starreign, I'm home." She tightened her arms around her mother as the auburn-haired woman rocked them side-to-side. After a few minutes, her tears stopped and Leafpool closed her eyes as her mother pressed a kiss to the bridge of her nose and her forehead.

The brunette glanced over at her sister, who was hovering close by with Brambleclaw standing behind her. She started at how pale and sullen Squirrelflight looked, but the redhead smiled as if they had returned to being children. The click of Sandstorm's tongue brought Leafpool's attention back to her mother as the auburn-haired aristocrat looked her over.

"Now where have you been all these years?"

Leafpool's blood chilled at her mother's words. How in the world was she supposed to explain what happened? "Mother, I—"

"Mama! Mama!" Hollyleaf burst into the clearing, Jayfeather and Lionblaze close behind. The amber-haired boy had taken a hold of his brother's hand, taking care to avoid running into hedges and stumbling against the fountain. "It's so big here!" she shouted as she tackled her mother's left leg as Lionblaze took the other. Jayfeather, after realizing that his two siblings had taken both her legs hostage, lifted his arms in a silent plea to be carried.

Firestar's eyes widened. "Mama?" he repeated.

"Father, I can—" Leafpool broke off. Could she explain? She shook her head mentally. Absolutely not. "It's complicated," she murmured, scooping Jayfeather into her arms. Her throat closed up as she stared at her parents. "I'm sorry."

"Is this why you disappeared?" Her eyes watered as Firestar took a step towards her. Squirrelflight was by her side in seconds, pulling Jayfeather into her arms and urging the children to go with her. Hollyleaf and Lionblaze both seemed confused, but they followed their aunt after giving their mother a hesitant glance. Jayfeather was too startled to react as he was carried away in foreign arms.

"I'm so sorry." It was all that she could say. She had no excuses. "I'm so sorry."

She flinched when two arms pulled her into her father's embrace. "You should've told me," he choked out, hugging her tightly. "You should've told me." Leafpool swallowed a sob and nodded as a fresh wave of tears flooded her eyes. She felt him press a tender kiss to her forehead and stroke her back, waiting patiently for her to settle down and finish crying.

* * *

Third Person – Brambleclaw

He could see it in her eyes. They shone with tears, but they were different from her parents'. Their eyes glistened with relief and forgiveness. Squirrelflight's were filled with warmth and affection. His heart became a heavy weight in his chest, cold and hard as he stared at his wife. She had known where Leafpool had been all along.

 _And she didn't trust me enough to tell me?_  It was hard not to feel betrayed. She was the woman who shared his bed, his life, his  _heart_. But she always looked guilty. He had suspected it was an affair, but who was her lover? Crowfeather? The blue-eyed king was still mourning Feathertail. Stormfur? She hadn't gone to visit him ever since ever since his return. A servant? Surely one of Firestar's servants knew better than to pursue a relationship with a married woman.

But in the end, it turned out to be about Leafpool. It was always about Leafpool.

It was stupid for him to be jealous. Squirrelflight's heart was always connected with Leafpool's, and when the brunette disappeared, it as if she was living with only half a soul. It took months for Brambleclaw to piece her back together, slowly reinforcing each crack with the solid reassurance that he would never leave her side. Not like Leafpool. Never like Leafpool. But in the end, blood was thicker than marriage and Squirrelflight chose Leafpool again.

It hurt. It always hurt.

Brambleclaw had lied to his sister when she demanded the truth. She wouldn't understand. Nobody would understand. Nobody had been broken like him.

Squirrelflight always had her family. Brambleclaw only had Tawnypelt. He wanted to build the family he never had. He wanted to be a different man than his father—he needed to prove he was not the shadow of a corrupted man. So he pushed. He pushed for a family even though he knew Squirrelflight loved her freedom. He pushed for children even though he knew Squirrelflight would be much happier running through the fields of Zephyra and riding into its forests. He pushed for something to separate himself from his father even though he knew it would only hurt Squirrelflight in the end. But he did it anyway. He had to be different.

It hurt both of them in the end. He knew why Squirrelflight was distant and refused to look him in the eye. She thought she had failed him. For six years, her body refused to carry a child—the solid proof of unity between their physical bodies. She obsessed, she fretted, and she spent hours hovering in the medical section of their library, her scent clinging to worn pregnancy books. He was breaking her and he just couldn't stop.

There was nothing left for him to do. He could only wait for a miracle as his side of the bed grew colder and colder in his absence. He could only watch as Squirrelflight grew thin and pale, her skin losing the warm glow of sunlight that always colored her cheeks with life.

He would have to confront her about Leafpool tonight. He had to know why she had lied to him—why she couldn't put her trust in him. All would be resolved tonight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We only have responsibility and honor* - What Lilystorm is saying here is that they don't necessarily have a budget to follow because they have access to the national treasury, but they can have a budget set on spending an amount of money that won't damage the already-weak national economy and that they ought to spend as little as possible.
> 
> blushed harder when she remembered what he was referring to** - If you guys remember in chapter 2, Leafpool said "nonononono" when she accidentally messed up her carving of the crow and the cat. You guys can go back to that scene if you'd like.
> 
> Her fourteenth ball was the one she remembered most*** - Fourteenth ball does not mean the fourteenth ball she's attended. It means that she was fourteen when she attended this ball. Sorry for the confusion.
> 
> Papa**** - As you guys remember, it's Squirrelflight who calls Firestar "Papa" and Leafpool who calls him "Father". I wasn't really sure how to show how overwhelmed Leafpool was, so I decided to make her say "Papa" since it sounds much more intimate than "Father".


	20. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Leafpool begins treating Brook for RedLung, Squirrelflight's health takes a turn for the worse. Looks like Leafpool isn't the only one who's good at keeping secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, everyone; I do realize that it's been almost two years since I last updated. College started to eat up most of my life, as did Steam, so I was very, very distracted from continuing this story. But first and foremost, I want to say thank you to everyone who has been kudo-ing and leaving messages on this story. I'm very honored that people are enjoying this story.

Third Person – Leafpool

Her next few days passed without conflict. Leafpool tended to Brook several times a day, acting as both a doctor and company. The palace gardens thankfully hosted a large quantity of bloodline leaves—the primary medicine used for Redlung treatment. Leafpool had to boiled them for hours until its tea gained the consistency of honey. It was a bitter, spicy drink, dyed crimson red from the ruby veins of the bloodline plant. It stained easily, so Leafpool often was careful as she poured the tea into Brook's mouth. The tribeswoman usually cringed at the taste, but there was little Leafpool could do to ease its sharpness. No supplements or sweeteners could be added without the chance of negating the medicinal properties of the tea. In addition to that, the drinker wasn't allowed to consume any solids or liquids in the next few hours in order for the medicine to work undisturbed.

The preparation of bloodline tea was a stressful ordeal. The main reason why Redlung treatment was so unpopular and expensive was because it was extremely difficult to breed and cultivate bloodline. The ruby-veined plant lived in highly acidic soil and depended on other species of plants in order to grow properly. If its environment was disturbed or the weather conditions were to change suddenly, bloodline would immediately go into a dormant state until everything reverted back. The other reason was because bloodline leaves needed to be boiled for hours at a time, and overcooking them could make an entire batch useless, and in some cases, poisonous.

Stormfur, and Leafpool were the only ones allowed to visit Brook at any given time. Crowfeather and the others had tried to reason with the guards stationed by the tribeswoman's door, but Leafpool had stressed how dangerous Redlung was despite its low infection rate. While she didn't allow physical visits, she often seated Brook by the window in order for her to see glimpses of her children as they ran by. There were a few well-trained doctors in the medical wing who were given some clearance when it came to tending to the tribeswoman, but their services were used in the early mornings and late afternoons. All the time in between was shared between Stormfur and Leafpool.

Three knocks on the door informed the brunette of Stormfur's presence and the gray-haired aristocrat poked his head in after a few seconds of silence. "I can take over, if you'd like," he said, stepping into the room.

"She just fell asleep," Leafpool said, rising to her feet. "She's recovering nicely, but she'll need at least a few more weeks of treatment before she'll be healthy enough to leave the room." Stormfur smiled, his eyes softening as he gazed as his sleeping wife. Leafpool felt a pang of jealousy at the intimacy of their relationship and she squeezed his shoulder as she passed by. "Send an attendant if you need anything," she said.

"I will." Leafpool closed the door behind her, nodding to the two guards stationed close by. They bowed their heads to her and remained in position, their hands trained on their sword handles. She exited the guest manor and walked through the gardens, peeking around hedges to see if she could see one of her children or Silvermist. Unable to find anyone she was looking for, Leafpool headed into the palace.

"Miss Leafpool," an attendant said, skidding to a stop. "Crowfeather the Third wishes to know of Miss Brook's current status." He bowed from the waist. "He is currently in his office."

She cocked an eyebrow at the attendant and nodded. There was no reason why the blue-eyed king wouldn't want updates on Brook's health. After all, she is his childhood friend's wife. Leafpool roamed the hallways for a few minutes before she found his office and stepped in.

The sight before her was unexpected. A pair of glasses rested on Crowfeather's nose as his blue eyes skimmed the documents in his hand. Papers decorated each side of his desk in unorganized stacks, and books were placed by the bookshelves as opposed to _on_ the bookshelves. Beside the mahogany desk, a brown-haired man stood with another stack of documents in his arms, waiting patiently for the blue-eyed king to finish reading. The stranger lifted his head at Leafpool's entry and smiled at her.

"Good afternoon, Miss Leafpool. I don't believe we've had the pleasure of being introduced." He set down the papers and crossed the room, hand outstretched. Leafpool shook his hand firmly and returned his smile. "I am Hawkshade, one of Crowfeather the Third's many advisors."

"You don't have to address me like that in front of her," Crowfeather said pointedly. His eyes were still glued on the papers in front of him. "Leafpool can be trusted not to gape at your lack of formality."

"We need to keep up first impressions," Hawkshade tsked, returning to his side, "We wouldn't want everyone screaming _Crowy_ at the top of our lungs, do we?"

"Rowanheart," the blue-eyed king growled, setting down his papers. He peeked at Leafpool over his glasses. "How can I help you?"

"I have some updates on Brook health. She's recovering quickly, but it'll be a few more weeks before she'll be healthy enough to go outside."

"And how many more before she's fully recovered?"

"Approximately four months. There is the chance of extended treatment if she catches a cold or any other sicknesses."

"I see. Well, winter's just around the corner, but she might not be cured until we reach spring." Crowfeather stretched leisurely. "I'd really like to get to know her. I need to know what kind of woman my childhood friend married."

"Perhaps you'll get some pointers on whom to consider for marriage," Hawkshade teased. Leafpool's heart clenched at the thought of Crowfeather dressed in the ceremonial marriage uniform, but she quickly pushed it away. It was only expected that the Gaian king marry and pass on his bloodline. Although his sons will never inherit the throne, it was always a concern of keeping heritage blood alive.

Crowfeather's eyes grew distant at his advisor's words. "Maybe," he murmured. The look quickly faded away and he smiled at Leafpool. "I'm expecting someone you haven't seen in a long time. I've advised Firestar to keep his lips sealed, so when my visitor comes, he'll be—"

"Leafpool?" Shivers ran up the brunette's spine and she turned around slowly. Standing at the entrance of Crowfeather's office, was a familiar gray-haired aristocrat. His hand rested on the doorframe for support as he stared at her. She felt her throat constrict at the sight of his warm amber eyes and the tears that threatened to spill from them. "Oh great Starreign, is it really you?" He took a step forward, his voice wavering.

Her lips curled in a watery smile. "Graystripe," she whispered.

His arms were around her in seconds. The gray-haired aristocrat was crying heavily, his face buried into Leafpool's shoulder as he rocked them side to side. "Thank Starreign," he sobbed, clinging to her. "Oh thank Starreign." His arms tightened around her. "I thought I lost you forever."

_You were close_ , Leafpool thought as she returned the embrace. After a few minutes, he withdrew, a stern but fond expression in his eyes.

"Missy," he laughed. "Where in the world have you been?"

* * *

Third Person – Omniscient

" _Brook is healing up nicely," Bluestar murmured as Leafpool entered the clearing._

" _It's all thanks to Yellowfang," the brown she-cat said. "By the way, where is she?"_

" _Most likely visiting Cinderpelt." Feathertail leapt to her feet and bounded over to Leafpool, touching their noses together. "Papa was really happy to see you. You're like a daughter to him."_

" _I think of him as a second father," Leafpool confessed._

" _He'll be flattered to know." There was a gleam of wistfulness in the silver she-cat's eyes—it was undeniable that she missed her father. Graystripe had raised her and Stormfur while juggling Crookedstar's criticism and Dustpelt's disapproval on his shoulders. He sacrificed his happiness for their sake and always spoiled them rotten whenever he had the chance._

" _I hate to ruin this moment, but there's something more important at hand," Bluestar_ _said, pinning both she-cats with a stare. "Spottedleaf is on the move. I'm not sure what she's up to, but Oakheart tells me that_ _she's been absent at night." Her tail-tip twitched. "She must be visiting someone."_

" _Can't you send someone after her?" Leafpool asked. "You can follow her, right?"_

" _It's not that easy," Feathertail said. "It's forbidden for Starreign cats to follow others without permission. It's an invasion of privacy, really." She hesitated before adding, "We could be banished from Starreign for it."_

" _That's ridiculous! And what if she's causing havoc again?" Leafpool leapt to her feet, but faltered when Bluestar stared at her coolly._

" _Starreign trusts that each cat is doing what is morally correct," Bluestar said. "If we have suspicions, we have to have evidence to back them up."_

" _Then tell them what happened eleven years ago! Isn't that enough?"_

" _You were the only witness at the time, and even then, you were a child. Starreign's council could easily be convinced that you either misunderstood her intentions or that you were too young to comprehend the situation at hand." Bluestar's eyes narrowed. "Spottedleaf is clever and she knows how to cover her tracks well."_

_Leafpool searched her brain for answers. "But didn't she follow you when you visited me? She was hiding in the grass! Why wasn't she banished for that?"_

" _She came with the intention to visit you, not to follow us. If we know who her target was, we would be able to follow her without being accused of doing so." Bluestar's ear twitched. "Leafpool, I know you're frustrated, but please understand that you're not the only one. Spottedleaf was so kind and pure when we were—*"_

" _Leafpool!" Feathertail leapt between the two she-cats. "Your dream is fading," she said, her eyes fixated on the silvery blue she-cat. "We'll see you again, tomorrow." The brown she-cat opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say anything, she faded away. After scanning the clearing to ensure Leafpool had completely slipped out of her dream, Feathertail turned on Bluestar. "Be careful what you say!" she hissed._

" _I apologize. Spottedleaf's betrayal is affecting me much more strongly than I had realized." The former leader's eyes dimmed with defeat. "Her bitterness is not unexplainable. Out of all of us, her second chance was much less fulfilling. She died before she could properly fall in love with Firestar."_

" _But Squirrelflight and Leafpool were meant to be born!" Feathertail protested. "If Firestar had married Spottedleaf, his daughters would have never existed!"_

" _Perhaps that was what Starreign thought was for the best," Bluestar rumbled. "Leafpool's role in the forest had nearly destroyed all the clans."_

" _She may have caused destruction," Feathertail growled. "But Leafpool brought them life."_

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

Two months passed. News of Leafpool's return to the Empire spread like wildfire and the palace swarmed with aristocrats. Among the crowd, several members of the medical community had made their appearance. Littlecloud had all but tackled the brunette when he saw her, nearly sending both of them to the ground. The two of them were caught by Barkface, who spoke about retiring and settling into the palace's medical wing to continue tending to patients. Mothwing had settled into her position as Riverside's doctor and Mudfur had passed away the year before. As with all rumors, the ruckus died down eventually and Crowfeather's palace returned to the tranquility it once had.

Cinderpelt was a frequent visitor, round-bellied and peaceful with Astertail by her side. His smile glowed like the sun when he was reunited with Varnish, who seemed pleased to see the stableman again. The couple's son, Moonfur, had recently reached two years of age, and inherited his father's shyness and his mother's intelligence. He followed Jayfeather around the palace like a duckling chasing after its mother—or anyone it had mistaken for her. It was endearing how attached the gray-eyed toddler was to his blue-eyed elder, and surprisingly, Jayfeather seemed satisfied with having a loyal follower. It wasn't long before Hollyleaf and Lionblaze also began to dote on Moonfur as well.

With Brook's health steadily increasing, Leafpool made less and less visits to the tribeswoman's bedside. Stormfur had insisted that the brunette spend more time with her children, seeing as how she had already dedicated two months to helping his wife. She still visited Brook from time to time, but they mainly saw each other in the gardens as opposed to the tribeswoman's bedroom.

Everything was golden for the most part—Blackfrost was behaving around Crowfeather, Silvermist spent most of her time helping doctors in the medical wing, and her children were having the time of their lives as they followed Rowanheart on his 'adventures around the palace'.

It wasn't until Squirrelflight showed up on Crowfeather's doorstep did Leafpool realize just how ignorant she had been.

The redheaded woman was disheveled and gaunt, her hair frazzled and her eyes bloodshot as she stared at her sister. "It's finished, Leafa," she whispered, as the brunette rushed to her side. "He's finally done."

"He?" Leafpool's mind whirled in confusion. "Who is _he_?"

Squirrelflight stared at her feet. "Brambleclaw finally threw me away."

* * *

The next few days were turbulent and stressful. Leafpool stayed in her chambers and moved her children into Silvermist's to preserve her sister's privacy. Meals were delivered to her door and attendants were relayed between her and Stormfur in regards to Brook's physical health and future treatments. Blackfrost had approached her door on several occasions but had been dismissed each time.

Squirrelflight was quiet and doll-like, an eerie stillness settling over her like a fog. Leafpool brought her rich and nutritious meals, but the redhead only consumed a few bites before turning her head away. She would only move to go to the restroom or to sit by the window, her eyes glued to the attendants and maids that scurried below. She'd crack a joke from time to time, but her eyes remained glazed and her smile had yet to reach them.

Her skin clung to her bones and whatever muscles her body had yet to digest in place of food. Leafpool winced at the sight of her sister's skin pulled tight over her chest, the shadow of her ribs peeking out from each dip. It was strange how Squirrelflight seemed to be losing weight despite the highly oil-rich foods that decorated her plates. If anything, she should've filled into her body until her skin released the bones it clung to.

It wasn't until the fifth day that Leafpool noticed a faint bulge to her sister's abdomen.

The brunette had heard of cases where starving children became bloated from infections and parasites, but the medication she mixed into Squirrelflight's meals seemed to have no effect on the redhead. Puzzled, Leafpool continued the prescription, increasing its potency as time passed. After two weeks, her mornings were filled with the acidic whiff of vomit and the restrained heaving sounds from the bathroom.

Feathertail and Bluestar were distant, focusing most of their time tracking down Spottedleaf's visitor. Firestar and Sandstorm visited frequently, bringing snippets of the conflict brewing between Herobexy and Zephyra. Brambleclaw had moved back into Herobexy shortly after Squirrelflight appeared at Leafpool's door, and rumors regarding his marriage with the redhead spread through the Empire like wildfire. Dustpelt and Firestar had done their best to withhold information from the public, but aristocrats were gossipy and social gatherings were the perfect place to share the newest topics of interest.

Brambleclaw had locked himself into Herobexy's main manor house, refusing to meet with anyone besides Dustpelt and Tawnypelt. Meanwhile, Firestar wrestled with Dustpelt's stubbornness, working hard to uncover the reasons for Squirrelflight's sudden decline in health and Brambleclaw's unexplained self-isolation. The dark-haired head of Herobexy refused to provide answers or arrange a meeting between the redhead and his son-in-law, choosing to ignore Firestar as the conflict continued. Cinderpelt visited from time to time to check up on Squirrelflight, but her rapidly approaching due date was making her much more cautious about leaving home.

After two months of silence, Yellowfang finally appeared in Leafpool's dreams.

" _Stop with the medication," The gray she-cat rasped as Leafpool stepped into the clearing._

" _But there's an infection or a parasite of sorts in her stomach. I need to get rid of it."_

_Yellowfang's whiskers twitched in amusement. "She does have a parasite of sorts, but it's hardly one you'd_ want _to get rid of."_

" _I don't think I understand."_

" _You've experienced the same symptoms." Yellowfang said. "Rounded abdomen, nauseous in the mornings, change of appetite and frequent mood-swings—any of those ring a bell?"_

_Leafpool blinked at the gray she-cat before she felt the air being pressed out of her lungs. "She's_ pregnant _?"_

" _There we go. Don't let your emotions get in the way of a diagnosis, kit**. The medicine you're giving her is making her sicker than she needs to be." Yellowfang sighed in exasperation. "It seems that I can't leave you alone like I thought. I'll have to keep an eye on you so you don't make another false diagnosis." Her voice was bored and irritated, but Leafpool could almost hear an underlying whisper of fondness. "Go along, kit. The news may just bring her out of the grave she's made for herself."_

_Leafpool's blood chilled at the thought of Squirrelflight withering away at her post by the window, her emerald eyes forever trained on the figures below. "She's already so broken," the brown she-cat murmured. "I'm not sure if she'll trust me."_

_A bemused expression crossed Yellowfang's face. "Of course she will. After all, you're the one with the trust issues. She's never had a problem trusting you."_

" _But what if she doesn't react to the news? What if it doesn't help?"_

_A haunted, heavy look settled in Yellowfang's eyes. "Pregnancies always change women," she rasped. "For better or for worse." Her expression grew distant for a few seconds before she pinned Leafpool with an amber stare. "Hurry along now, kit. You're doing her no good by hanging around with me." She swatted at the brown she-cat and the dream faded into white._

* * *

Leafpool jolted awake, startling her sister in the process. The redhead nearly tumbled off the bed, but the brunette grabbed her just before she fell. After pulling the two of them back onto the mattress, Leafpool sat back on her heels and stared at her sister's abdomen. Squirrelflight frowned at her, but made no move towards the bathroom. _It's been about three months_ , Leafpool thought. _She may be over her morning sickness by now._

"Leafa? Is something wrong?" Squirrelflight frowned at her, but the brunette only smiled.

"No, it's nothing. How are you feeling?"

"A lot better than a few days ago," the redhead chuckled. She had several intimate hours hunched over in the bathroom, growing well acquainted with the tiles that decorated the floor and walls. After realizing the dosage she gave was mostly the reason for Squirrelflight's extended time in the restroom, Leafpool quietly lowered the potency of the drug and blamed her sister's sickness on a stomach bug. "I tried to touch my toes when you stepped out yesterday. I'm completely out of shape." Her green eyes glowed with hope—a light Leafpool hadn't seen in a very long time. "Can we go for a walk in the gardens? I've never really had a chance to explore them before."

"Of course," Leafpool said, getting to her feet. "There's a lot to see."

* * *

Third Person – Brambleclaw

"No means no. Doesn't Firestar understand that Brambleclaw doesn't want to speak to him right now?" Brambleclaw raised his head from his sofa cushion at Dustpelt's voice. Who was he speaking to?

"Oh hush, Dustpelt, before you give yourself another migraine," Graystripe chided. "Besides, Firestar didn't send me. I just thought it was about time that someone spared Brambleclaw a day away from your wrinkled mug."

"My face is not wrinkled!" The door swung open and Graystripe paraded in, a scowling Dustpelt trailing close behind.

"Great to see that you're awake, Brambleclaw!" the gray-haired aristocrat greeted. "You'll be coming with me to visit Stormfur and Brook! I don't think you've met my grandchildren yet." Crossing the room in a few strides, Graystripe wrapped his hands around Brambleclaw's wrists and pulled him to his feet.

"Isn't Squirr—"

"It doesn't matter who's at the castle right now," Graystripe said, dragging Brambleclaw through the doorway. "It's a big castle and we can avoid anyone we want if we try hard enough. Besides," he added in a low voice, "Squirrelflight hasn't left Leafpool's chambers since she'd left home." Brambleclaw stiffened at the gray-haired aristocrat's words, but Graystripe carried along as if he hadn't mentioned anything about the redhead. "Anyway, I've only gotten to see my grandchildren for a few hours before Crowfeather kicked me out of his palace. Isn't that rude? So what if it was ceremonial week—I wasn't going to disturb any of his ceremonies."

"What are you saying, Graystripe? You're an expert at disturbing anything of importance." Dustpelt looked uncomfortable at the thought of Brambleclaw being abducted by an over-talkative forty-five-year-old, but he didn't make any move to help the younger aristocrat. For a split second, the dark-haired aristocrat wondered if Dustpelt had planned to have Graystripe drag him out of Herobexy.

"I was just going to play in the gardens."

"The ceremony involves the Gaian king blessing the plants in the gardens."

"Then we can play hide-and-go-seek in the places where he isn't blessing those flowers."

"That's not the point!" Dustpelt sighed and watched as Graystripe unceremoniously tossed Brambleclaw into a carriage. "At least return him in a fairly tolerable state of mind," the brunet pleaded.

"I'll bring him home in one piece," the amber-eyed aristocrat promised. Brambleclaw stared at his feet, uncertain as to why he didn't struggle against Graystripe when he was still in the manor house. Now that he was seated in a moving carriage, he had no chance of escaping unscathed. The hair on his arms prickled and Brambleclaw looked up to see Graystripe watching him. The expression in his amber eyes were thoughtful and compassionate, and the gray-haired aristocrat smiled wistfully before turning away.

"I suppose you and Squirrelflight are hitting a rough patch in your marriage," he said. "Fights are inevitable in any relationship, but it's important to treasure each other. Sometimes, you're a little too late to say goodbye."

Brambleclaw stared at the gray-haired aristocrat as the carriage rumbled on. Graystripe's face faced the window, but the gentle tremor in his voice betrayed the steadiness of his shoulders. "What happened to Millie?" he asked. Millie was a benevolent, tender foreigner who visited the Empire on diplomatic terms. Firestar had been asked to house her, and for that duration of time, she had grown particularly fond of Graystripe, who seemed to be quite smitten with her.

"I don't know," the older aristocrat said. "She just wasn't Silverstream."

Brambleclaw's heart clenched at the thought of losing Squirrelflight and trying to the remnants her spirit lingering in the eyes of another. "No one will ever be like Silverstream."

"And that's why it'll never work out." Brambleclaw opened his mouth to retort—to insist that there would always be someone else if Graystripe was willing to open his heart to another, but then the gray-haired aristocrat turned and gave him a small smile. "She was my first love," he whispered. "And she took away my heart before I could even tell her I loved her." The conversation died and Graystripe turned his face back towards the window just as Brambleclaw gazed through his.

The majority of the ride had been silent, and the two of them wordlessly entered an inn to book their rooms for the night. The following day was met with polite, quiet nods as they clambered back into their carriage and rode towards the City of Evermore in the morning light. It was about noontime when they arrived, and Graystripe dismissed their coachman as they entered Crowfeather's palace.

"Good sirs, how may I help you?" An attendant was before them in seconds, a polite, mechanical smile fitted onto his face.

"We're looking for Stormfur—does Crowfeather know where he is?" Graystripe asked.

"Unfortunately, Crowfeather the Third is currently in a council meeting with his advisors. Would you like for me to inform him of your presence?"

"That won't be necessary," the gray-haired aristocrat assured him quickly. "Do you know where Stormfur is?"

"Mister Stormfur can usually be found in the gardens or in the guest manor. Would you like me to escort you there?" Brambleclaw eyed the attendant warily—just how well-informed were these people? Only the most personable servants knew the corners their aristocrats haunted, and to think that an attendant—most definitely one of many—would know the whereabouts of each inhabitant of the palace? There must be a networking system of sorts.

"No, I'm sure we'll be able to find him on our own." The attendant bowed and hurried down the hall as Graystripe turned to Brambleclaw. "Stormfur's probably walking with Brook in the gardens," he said. "He told me that he always likes to get a walk in before lunch." The two of them entered the gardens and began to pick their way through the hedges, admiring the flowers as they passed. It was amazing how beautiful the gardens were—and Brambleclaw could only imagine how many gardeners it required to stay well-kept.

After twenty minutes of wandering through the hedge-maze, Brambleclaw heard voices coming from around a corner. Frowning, he stepped closer, straining his ears as he fought to identify who was speaking without giving away his presence. "You know, I really wish I explored this place when we were younger. It's so beautiful here." His blood ran cold at the cheery, warm tones of his wife's voice. Squirrelflight was here.

Graystripe glanced worriedly at him and stepped closer. "Is something wrong, Bramb—" The younger aristocrat silenced the gray-haired man with a quick hiss. The older man raised a curious eyebrow at the dark-haired man, but leaned against the hedge when Brambleclaw pressed his ear against the foliage.

"Leafa? Are you okay?" Graystripe's eyebrows shot up and he gave Brambleclaw a wide-eyed stared. The younger aristocrat ignored the look and focused his attention on eavesdropping.

"Why would you ask that?"

"You look worried. Distant, even." The redhead hesitated. "Is something on your mind?"

There were a few moments of silence before Leafpool replied. "Have you ever thought of having children?"

"What kind of question is that?" Squirrelflight scoffed. "Of course I have. I've been thinking about them for the past five years." He could almost hear the bitterness in her voice. "It's not like I'll have any, anyway."

There was a dangerous edge to Leafpool's voice. "What do you mean by that?"

Brambleclaw shivered as the air around him grew cold. The tension in the air was almost suffocating. "Leafa, do you remember when we were children, and papa got really drunk?"

"Eleven years ago."

"And remember how you told me about Spottedleaf after everything was settled? How she was tearing our family apart?"

"Squirrelflight."

"I'm scared, Leafa." Squirrelflight's voice shook. "She told me that I'd never have kids. She visited me every night. I didn't believe her at first, but then years passed and nothing happened. I didn't know what to do. I want a family, Leafa," Squirrelflight choked out. "But Brambleclaw _needs_ one. And I can't even give him that. Do you know how horrible that makes me feel? If he had gone and married someone else—he might not be childless. He might have the family that he's always wanted, and here I am, depriving him of everything he's ever wanted."

"He's wanted you."

"I wasn't enough."

"Squirrelflight."

"There's nothing I can do about it. I should just tell papa to let Brambleclaw divorce me. Hell, I should divorce him myself. He'd be much better off with someone who can give him children."

"Squirrelflight."

"I bet he'd be a lot happier, too. I mean, who wants a wife who can't even give him children?"

"But you can give him children." Leafpool's voice was soft. "There's one inside of you right now."

Brambleclaw's heart skipped a beat at her words. Was Squirrelflight truly pregnant? Or was this another misconception?

"Are you kidding me, Leafa? You can't joke about these kinds of things!"

"And I don't! Squirrelflight, there's a child inside of you."

"The only way that I would ever have a child inside of me is if I ate one. Please don't tell me you've been feeding me babies for the past few months. I can't have kids! I'm _infertile_."

"Listen to yourself! Are you going to trust someone who nearly tore our family apart or are you going to listen to me—your sister? If you haven't forgotten, I'm a doctor, I've been pregnant, and I know what the signs are! You've been nauseous in the mornings, you've sleeping a lot more, you've lost interest in half of the things you used to love, and your abdomen is swelling."

"Well maybe I'm just getting fat."

"Then why are you still so bony? Squirrelflight, I'm not lying to you!"

"I _can't_ have kids, Leafa. Starreign said so!"

"A _corrupted_ Starreign cat said so! I could tell all the doctors in the medical community about your symptoms and they'd all agree with me. You're pregnant! And if you can't trust doctors over Starreign, then can you at least trust me?"

"I don't know—did you trust me when you ran away six years ago?"

"Squirrelflight."

"I'm done, Leafa. This conversation's over." Squirrelflight turned on her heel and Brambleclaw heard her footsteps fade away.

"It can't be over just because you want it to!" Leafpool's voice drifted away as she hurried after her sister. Dazed, Brambleclaw turned to Graystripe, who wore a stunned expression on his face.

"Don't say a word to Firestar." The gray-haired aristocrat seemed taken aback by Brambleclaw's words, but nodded warily. If there were still uncertainties shrouding Squirrelflight's pregnancies, the risks associated with spreading the word were crippling. If the aristocratic houses or the medical community were to catch a whiff of Starreign's direct contact with an aristocrat, the rumors would never end. If they succeeded in keeping everything tied down and unnoticed, they could easily play down Brambleclaw and Squirrelflight's separation as the aftermath of a domestic.

"Do you really think she's pregnant?" Graystripe whispered.

"I don't know," Brambleclaw murmured. "This is all happening too quickly." He felt a stab of betrayal at Squirrelflight's reluctance to trust him. Wasn't he her husband? Why didn't she trust him with the truth?

_Because she loved you_ , a small voice murmured at the back of his head. _She didn't want to hurt you_.

_But she already did_ , Brambleclaw thought bitterly. _It's harder to face a lie than it is to know the truth._

* * *

Third Person – Leafpool

It took a few days to coax Squirrelflight out from underneath the blankets, and two more to convince her to step outside again. Leafpool could almost feel a solid wall between herself and her sister and a feeling of insecurity bubbled inside of her. Her sister had always been her rock—a presence she could depend on for comfort and stability. Although she was wary about sharing her secrets with Squirrelflight, Leafpool found comfort in the redhead's proximity, and the rift between them made her feel as if a blanket had been ripped away from her on a cold winter night.

"Leafpool." The brunette looked up to see Crowfeather enter the clearing with a hesitant smile on his face. "How's Brook?"

"Recovering quickly," she said. "It shouldn't be long before she can walk on her own."

"She's been dying to see her children." Although the tribeswoman was mostly cured of Redlung, Leafpool still forbade anyone besides herself and Stormfur from visiting her. It was an added security measure to ensure that nobody would catch the weakened strain of the disease—regardless of whether it could act as a vaccine or not.

"She only has to wait two more weeks," Leafpool replied. She frowned, taking in the weariness around Crowfeather's eyes. "Are you alright? You look pale."

"Paler than usual?" Crowfeather joked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. When she continued to stare at him, he faltered and smiled in defeat. "Rushtail's reaching the end of his reign. It won't be long before the next elections, and even then, he'll still be expected to train his successor. Larkwing and I are expected for the inauguration ceremony, but it's been so long since the last election that our advisors decided to arrange recitals for us." He rubbed at his eyes with a grimace. "I have at least five books stacked on my desk on procedures and attire."

"Are you sure it's alright that you're telling me this? Isn't this classified information?"

"Well, you're hardly the person to run around spilling national secrets," Crowfeather replied. "And besides, this information is uncommon, not classified. It's been forty-some years since the last election and only the older generations remember how the inaugurations go."

"Well, I suppose you're doing no harm by telling me," Leafpool said. "After all, I won't be staying for the elections." She had meant it on a kind note, but the hurt expression in Crowfeather's eyes quickly made her realize what she had said. "I mean—I didn't—"

"It's alright." He silenced her with a wave. "It's only understandable that you would return to Ancansura after everything was finished." A bitter smile crossed his face. "After all, our contract dictates that you're only required to stay in the Empire until Brook is completely healed."

"Crowfeather, I—" _I want to stay._ The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she quickly snapped her mouth shut before they could escape. She couldn't stay here—she had a clinic back in Ancansura and she couldn't risk having him discover who the father of her children was. She should've lied about her relationship with Blackfrost when she had the chance.

But the raw emotion in Crowfeather's eyes set her blood on fire. "It won't be long before you'll be required to take a wife," she said quickly.

"My advisors have already been pestering me about that." His voice turned icy and Leafpool realized that she switched to a touchy subject. "I will only take a wife if I love her first."

Her throat tightened at his words. "She'll be a very lucky woman."

Crowfeather opened his mouth to reply, but he quickly closed it without a word. An awkward silence settled over the two of them as they stood together, heads bowed in different directions. The only thing that lifted the tension was the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps, and both adults lifted their heads to see who they belonged to.

Lionblaze appeared around the corner, his brother and sister in tow. Jayfeather's hand was interlocked with Hollyleaf as they clambered in the clearing, beaming at the sight of their mother. "We found mama!" Lionblaze announced, grabbing her around the waist. Hollyleaf and Jayfeather followed suit, latching on their mother wherever there was space. It took them a few seconds to notice Crowfeather, who had a faint expression of amusement on his face. Lionblaze blinked at his mother before turning his large, amber eyes to the blue-eyed king. "Are _you_ going to play with us?"

"Lionblaze!" Leafpool glanced worriedly at Crowfeather before giving her son a stern look. "He's a very busy man. He doesn't have very much time to play with us." Her ears heated with embarrassment—Crowfeather looked as if he would collapse within a few hours, dazed expression in his eyes. She looked up at the blue-eyed king. "I'm so sorry—" she started, but she was silenced by a wave of his hand.

"I have some time," he said. Lionblaze and Hollyleaf released their mother immediately, choosing to throw their arms around Crowfeather instead. Flabbergasted, Leafpool watched as Jayfeather, although reluctantly, also stepped away from her and approached the blue-eyed king. "I can ask Torrentpelt to spare me a day tomorrow. I'm sure I can count on you three to help me convince him," he said, addressing the children. Hollyleaf and Lionblaze beamed at him, giddy at the thought of having a playdate with the Gaian king.

Crowfeather smiled warmly at Jayfeather before gathering the gray-haired boy in his arms. He looked startled at first, but quickly relaxed in the blue-eyed king's arms. "It's been a while since I left my office and my study. Lionpelt has been far from pleased with my physical stature for the past few weeks." He frowned at Leafpool, whose eyes were glued on the gray-haired child in his arms. "Leafpool? Is there something wrong?"

The brunette snapped out of her daze and regarded her son warily. "It usually takes a long time for someone to warm up to Jayfeather. It took Silvermist three years to even let her hold him." The silver-haired villager had invested in an extensive amount of patience and a variety of treats before Jayfeather finally opened up to her.

Yet strangely enough, the same boy was nestled in Crowfeather's arms as if he had known the man since birth.

The blue-eyed king raised an eyebrow at Jayfeather and gave him a crooked smile. "There must be some strange bond between the two of us. I'm not very sociable, you know." _Oh, I know_ , Leafpool thought. _It took you five years to even consider me a friend and even then you didn't talk very much._ She was over-exaggerating, really, but he had been rather quiet even after the two of them established their friendship. "And besides, I'm not usually this friendly with children. Probably a coincidence." Jayfeather grabbed Crowfeather by the cheeks and squeezed, earning a few giggles from his siblings. The blue-eyed king smiled good-naturally and bounced the gray-haired boy in his arms.

_They know their father_ , Leafpool thought, a slow, bittersweet smile crossing her face. She tucked the image of them away in the back of her mind for a later time. This was likely the only time they would see their father, so who was she to deny them of their time with him? "I can arrange a picnic if you'd like. I'm sure the rest of my advisors are looking forward to a break as well."

"Even Torrentpelt?" Leafpool laughed.

"That man plans on working himself to death," Crowfeather sighed. "He'll give in if Lilystorm asks, though." He placed Jayfeather onto his feet and squeezed the boy's shoulder apologetically. "I'll see what I can get done tonight. You can expect a picnic tomorrow, though."

"Go to bed," Leafpool said. "I'm a doctor; I can give your advisors the diagnosis. If they plan on overworking you, I can list all the detrimental side-effects that'll have on your future heath."

"That's not necessary—"

"Please," she said. "Let me do this for you." _To make up for everything I haven't done._

Crowfeather stared at her, an indescribable emotion lingering in his eyes. "Okay." He gave her a tender smile. "I'll leave that up to you, then."

"Don't be afraid to ask for sleeping aides," she added. "I can prepare some poppy tea for you."

"Thank you." He stepped towards her, hesitated, and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before heading towards the palace. Her children watched, wide-eyed as she rested her fingers over the skin his lips had touched. Leafpool's heart twisted into knots as she stared after him, all thoughts of returning to her clinic in Ancansura crushed with a single kiss.

* * *

Third Person – Squirrelflight

_The crunch of pebbles underfoot made her realize where her dream had taken her. She crouched low, squeezing her eyes shut as she curled into herself. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be reminded of all she had done. Being awake was better than being here—even if Jayfeather said strange things about seeing a baby in her womb, or Leafpool insisting that she was pregnant._

_She just wanted it all to stop._

_But these dreams taught her something she never imagined was possible—she couldn't get out alone. She spent nights being criticized, insulted, and manipulated by Spottedleaf, unable to escape her dream prison and return to consciousness without being awoken by someone else or until the tortoiseshell cat had her fill. She hated the smell of the pond, the sound of rustling grass, and the smoothness of the pebbles below. Even with her eyes closed and her ears folded, all she could think of was Spottedleaf and her silky, honey-sweet voice, dripping with good intentions and reassurances._

_The honey was sweet but the bee would always sting***._

_So she waited. She waited for that silky voice to coax her eyes open, to assure her that everything was alright. She waited for that fragrant, mint scent to wash over her. She waited for the unforgiving, inevitable_ crunch _of the pebbles as Spottedleaf approached, her tail swinging slowly from side to side in a seductive walk._

" _What do you plan to achieve by being hunched over like that?"_

_Squirrelflight's eyes flew open as a rough, raspy voice ran over her ears. A few feet away, a gray, flat-faced she-cat stared at her with cool amber eyes. The fur on Squirrelflight's back rose at the sight of the stranger, and she quickly took up a defensive position with her paws planted firmly underneath her. The gray she-cat watched on, indifferent and collected._

" _What? Would you rather that wretched Spottedleaf come visit you again?" She curled her tail around her paws. "If it makes you feel safer," she drawled, "I am a friend of your sister's."_

" _And how would I be sure of that?" Squirrelflight challenged, bristling._

" _Because I'm her friend too." The grass parted and a silver tabby stepped into the clearing, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears._

_Squirrelflight's heart stopped and the dark ginger cat found it difficult to breathe. "_ Feathertail? _" She looked back and forth between the silver she-cat and the gray stranger. "What in Starreign's name is going on here?"_

" _I've come to clear some doubts regarding your physical state," the stranger said. "I had initially thought Leafpool would be able to convince you, but it seems that you two sisters are more alike than I had expected." Her amber eyes narrowed in exasperation._

" _Yellowfang is a medicine cat," Feathertail explained when Squirrelflight continued to stare at the stranger. "She was Cinderpelt's mentor and one of Firestar's closest friends."_

" _Yellowfang?_ The _Yellowfang?" The dark ginger she-cat looked over the gray medicine cat warily. Was this really the person her father and Cinderpelt spoke so highly of?_

_The amber-eyed cat blinked at Squirrelflight. "Am I not what you expected?"_

_It was Squirrelflight's turn to blink. "Well, I have to say, I was looking for someone distinctively more human and less…fluffy."_

_Yellowfang huffed and rolled her eyes. "Kits," she grumbled. Feathertail shot her a half-amused, half-uncertain glance before looking back at Squirrelflight. "I'm not here to waste my time, so I won't waste yours. Squirrelflight, your sister was not lying to you when she said that you are pregnant." Her ear twitched in annoyance. "In fact, I was the one who told her you were pregnant in the first place. She thought you had some sort of parasite or infection."_

_Most of Yellowfang's words entered one ear and passed through the other, but the words_ not lying _,_ pregnancy _, and_ Leafpool _stuck firmly in her brain. Suddenly finding it difficult to breathe, Squirrelflight wheezed, "But I thought Spottedleaf said—"_

" _Spottedleaf is no longer a credible medicine cat," Yellowfang replied. "I will tell you now, any Starreign medicine cat will say that you are pregnant based on your symptoms_ and _the fact that we can see life resting in your womb. You are truly, 100% pregnant."_

_It took a few minutes before the news set in and Squirrelflight was overcome with a wave of anger. "Then why now?" she demanded. "Why not earlier, when Brambleclaw and I were still together. Why must I be pregnant now, when I wasn't able to conceive in the past five years?"_

" _Your body wasn't ready for it yet," Feathertail murmured. "Starreign wanted to make sure that you were healthy enough for the pregnancy to happen."_

"Healthy _? I spend most of my days hunting and training_ outside _!"_

" _Just because you were physically fit doesn't mean that your body was prepared to carry a child," Yellowfang hissed. "Your body was still maturing, and now that it's fully matured, it's capable of carrying a child."_

" _You're about four months in****," Feathertail said. "It won't be long before you'll really be showing." She paused before adding, "Don't worry about Spottedleaf. Starreign's council will be handling her situation. In the meantime, you should start taking care of yourself and the baby."_

" _Mind you, Leafpool deserves an apology," Yellowfang said. "You're in good hands, Squirrelflight." Her amber eyes turned sharp. "Don't abuse them."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spottedleaf was so kind and pure when we were—* - If it isn't clear, Bluestar is referring to the time when they were still cats. I understand that I'm making a huge antagonist out of Spottedleaf, so sorry for all those who like her as a character. Unfortunately, I'm not a fan of her and I'm sick and tired of how much of a role she plays in the life of both Leafpool and Firestar. She's been dead since the first book, but she's doesn't seem on planning to go anywhere.
> 
> Don't let your emotions get in the way of a diagnosis, kit** - Yellowfang's endearment for those who are younger and much more naive than she is. This actually was inspired by how Kurama addresses Naruto, if any of you guys are anime fans too.
> 
> The honey was sweet but the bee would always sting*** - Squirrelflight is referring to how sweet Spottedleaf's voice is, but how deadly and painful her words are. Talk about angel-faced devils...
> 
> You're about four months in**** - Yeah, Squirrelflight isn't that far into her pregnancy. She's still interested in trying for a baby, so if we really try to put a date on when she got pregnant, it would be about two weeks before Leafpool returns?


End file.
